


Make Your Seekers Happy

by DemonsDaughter



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One, Transformers MTMTE - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Grooming, Group Sex, Knotting, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Partners, Orgy, Seeker Trines, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Valve Dom (Transformers), Wing Grooming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26331907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonsDaughter/pseuds/DemonsDaughter
Summary: Megatron and Starscream can't be in the same room together without starting a fight. Soundwave offers a simple solution before petty relationship troubles destroy the war effort: pamper the Secondary Trine and the Command Trine will follow their lead. Jealousy and a desire to get all the attention possible can get Starscream back on the right track--or so they hope.The old warlord gives the plan a try and is pleasantly surprised with the results~
Relationships: Astrotrain/Skywarp (Transformers), Dirge/Megatron/Ramjet/Thrust (Transformers), Dirge/Ramjet/Thrust, Megatron/Skywarp/Starscream/Thundercracker (Transformers), Megatron/Starscream (Transformers), Skywarp/Starscream/Thundercracker (Transformers)
Comments: 61
Kudos: 126





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a shameless, sticky interfacing porn with some plot. I just wanted Megatron to dish out some lovin' on all the wonderful Seekers. They love attention so why not pamper them a bit? 
> 
> Megatron in this story is tired and wants something to go correctly. He still has some bark and some bite but he is no raging warlord ripping off wings or beating up Seekers. Angry at times yes, but not totally unhinged. Imagine...MTMTE Megatron in an IDW/G1 body.
> 
> That's all, folks! 
> 
> Two more chapters are written up already so if you want to read more, let me know in the comments!

They had another fight in the command room.

Even Soundwave looked annoyed despite his optics and faceplate being concealed behind a visor and mask. His body language slumped ever so slightly, bulky shoulders folding inward. He hated how Megatron and Starscream couldn’t deal with their problems like normal people.

Then again, none of the Decepticons were ‘normal’ in any respect.

Arguments usually started over fuel and rationing. Starscream had valid points, as did their leader. Yet every time the two got together in a room it was like starting a bonfire and throwing gasoline on it to put it out. It was pure madness, the two high-power individuals working off each other until they were both in a fit of rage. One screeched, the other roared. It was like a cyber-hawk taking on a cyber-bear. It was always going to end poorly for the winged creature yet Starscream kept pushing and pushing and pushing.

Unfortunately the whole Decepticon force suffered because of the pair’s inability to work together or come to any compromise. He knew the two had been passionate lovers once, long ago when the war started. What had happened? How did two fierce masterminds fall so far out of love—if you could assume it was love? Sometimes Soundwave actually felt sorry for them.

Despite what many would think, Soundwave was only vicious when he needed to be. When behind closed doors he wanted nothing more than to sit with his cassettes and be grateful they were still with him after all these thousands of years at war. His little ‘family’ was the most important thing to him.

“Run away, Starscream, like you always do,” Megatron snarled, the massive tank watching as the tricolor Seeker rounded on him halfway to the door of the command room. Starscream’s wings were perked up high in frustration on his back, quivering with rage.

“You’re too old and rusted to hear what I’m telling you! I need more fuel to make scouting parties! Give me what I ask for and I’ll complete the mission, oh Mighty Lord Megatron who knows nothing about everything!” Starscream shrieked back, vocalizer already at the ‘frustrated scream’ level that Soundwave knew far too well.

“Excuses!”

“EXCUSES?!” Starscream yelled back, armor all fluffed and puffed to its full extent. “How DARE you say I’ve made an excuse! I am asking for support! I need more fuel for the Seekers. If I don’t have that, I won’t be doing even the tiniest bit of scouting, you blockheaded oaf!”

Starscream whirled around on his thruster-heeled pedes and went storming off, slamming the command center door behind him. Onslaught snickered and leaned back in his chair while Motormaster looked like he may or may not have just woken up from a nap, roughly wiping his mouth with the back of an arm to pretend he hadn’t been drooling. Soundwave glanced at Megatron at the front of the table, watching for an outburst.

The warlord sat in a fuming silence, vermillion optics narrowed as his shoulders tensed up and his jaw grit tight in stubborn determination. The Seeker was not going to win this little battle of wills. He would keep them rationed and have a raid for more energon soon, but if the Decepticons got more fuel? The Seekers would not be allowed any extra. Punish them for Starscream’s insolent behavior!

“Lord Megatron: shall we continue with the meeting?” Soundwave asked evenly, not cautious but steady and controlled. The silver tank snarled back.

“Motormaster, Onslaught, prepare two simultaneous raids on the Autobot storage locations for energon capture. You will be rewarded for your efforts. Now get out of my sight. The meeting is dismissed.”

The two gestalt leaders got up hastily, saluting before they lumbered off. They knew better than to sit there and gain Megatron’s wrath. While they were brutes, they did have gestalts to take care of and neither one wanted to risk a mate taking the brunt of Megatron’s aggression. Once they were both gone, Megatron slumped back in his chair, rubbing his helm as if he had a headache already.

“You are free to go, Soundwave,” he sighed, sounding more tired now than before. Soundwave stood, but he lingered a moment.

“Megatron: speak with the other Seekers. Seekers: will explain better what is needed.”

“I have no interest in dealing with them further. They’re wretched creatures, always demanding more and giving nothing,” Megatron spat, rolling his optics.

“Conehead trine: not demanding.” 

“They are stupid.”

Soundwave hummed. True, but they were able to be ordered and if given some attention which all Seekers thrived on? Megatron might find he had some very useful assets.

“Seekers: desire large amounts of attention and affection.”

“I don’t have time to coddle them, if that’s what you mean,” Megatron grunted, curling a lip in disdain. “I want soldiers, not lap pets.”

“Advice: impress Conehead trine. Starscream: will become jealous.”

Now that did get Megatron’s attention, the warlord rumbling softly. Well, that was one way to look at it. If he gave one trine lots of perks, Starscream would find out. And it would make him more aggressive and eager to outdo the other three. Perhaps, if he played his cards right, he could have his soldiers back and working for him the way he liked.

That and maybe he could somehow convince Starscream and his trine to come back to him. Or at least be decent enough to tolerate a meeting. He was certainly pretty to look at but that didn’t do much during a war. Pretty things got crushed and died.

“Very well. I will try this Seeker against Seeker plan of yours. We shall see how it pans out. But if it will tame Starscream again, it will be considered a success.”

Megatron was much older than when he had started the war effort and now? Now he was tired. He wanted things to be done without him having to run every aspect of a plan and tell his soldiers when to breathe. That was why you had generals and commanders in the field, to help execute the plans made in the command room. Yet Megatron had found he had few to rely on. His gestalts were unstable, his relationship with Starscream had fallen apart long ago, and Soundwave was reclusive more often than not. The Decepticon Cause wasn’t dying but it was worn down, needing a break to rest and recover from the internal damage it had done to itself.

“You may leave. I have Seekers to summon here.”

———

Dirge was happy to be snuggled in for the evening with his trine. Ramjet was already in recharge, dozing peacefully while smushed between Thrust’s frame and the wall of their quarters. Thrust was purr-trilling, wings flicking happily as his trine leader groomed him. They were calm and happy enough for being stuck on Earth and underfueled.

“You’re very talkative today,” Dirge chuckled warmly, his Outlier ability creating a warm, happy aura of energy around his tiny flock. He leaned over Thrust’s frame, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Thrust smirked back, yellow citrine optics dull from lack of proper fuel but still able to gleam with amusement.

“No patrols means we get to lay back and relax.”

“And how do you define ‘relax?’ Because I have a few ideas for us~” Dirge growled softly, the sound a husky trill as he settled on top of his mate. Thrust was the most submissive of the trine, a little too skittish for his own good but he was pleasant to have around when they were all peaceful and content.

Thrust’s aft bumped up against Dirge’s panel, a soft snick indicating the valve had already been revealed. Dirge smiled, his spike pressurizing a few moments later as he settled fully on top of Thrust and nudged his thighs apart with a knee.

“You’re stunning. And you’re mine,” Dirge growled, mouthing lightly at Thrust’s nape. The maroon and gold Seeker mewled with need, shimmying his hips in a demanding way.

“Yeah, yeah, I know all that. I want you to frag me. Come ooon, quit teasing,” Thrust groaned, squirming around under Dirge as he demanded more attention and the interfacing he was now riled up to receive. Dirge nipped more aggressively at his mate’s neck, a low trill of warning.

“Behave yourself. Talking back won’t get you what you want,” Dirge said firmly, not about to let Thrust get out of line.

The mech was more arrogant than Ramjet and yet somehow he still managed to be their most submissive of the trine and the most flighty. He had a big bark but if things went poorly? Ramjet would be the first mech to turn tail and flee. Even if he had some shortcomings, Dirge adored him anyway. He remembered back to when he had first picked Thrust out, when their trine had first formed. He missed those days when things had been good and made sense.

Thrust mumbled a little churr of apology for being snarky, bumping his aft up against his mate’s groin in a hopeful way. He was silently saying please, Dirge smirking at the eager little shifts against his stiff and heavy spike. Thrust was already puffy with arousal, his maroon valve lips smearing lubricant across the shaft of his deep blue and gold spike.

“Better. But you need to ask nicely.”

“Please?”

“Please who?”

“You! Dirge! Please Dirge!” Thrust mewled, all sorts of squirmy now and begging for more. “Please frag me. Please.”

“That’s better,” Dirge soothed, guiding his spike between warm folds and finally mounting in two smooth thrusts. Thrust groaned with relief, faceplate now shoved into a pillow as his trine leader shifted around and got a good grip on his hips. Dirge draped across Thrust’s back, nuzzling between his wings and nipping lightly at one of the edges.

He started up a good, steady pace, eliciting sweet chirps and cries for more from his mate. Dirge’s Outlier ability bloomed with pleasured energy, the Seeker perking his wings up high on his back. He was focused and overstimulated, starting to vent harder as he picked up the pace. Instead of firm lovemaking it turned into rocking the berth kind of fragging, Ramjet waking up with a low growl.

“Why’d you guys have to do that here when I was trying to nap?!” the black and white Seeker fussed, angrily pulling a mesh pillow over his helm. “Knock it off, you guys suck.”

“Hnnggff! You’d...aaah! Unnff...you’d like it if it were you getting—oh frag yes, right there!”

“I wanted a nap,” Ramjet shot back, although he made no move to do anything in retaliation or to move himself off the berth. It was big enough for all three of them so he just shuffled a little further away. He would try to let the rocking motion put him back into recharge since the last thing he wanted was to get riled up.

Ramjet could already smell the sweet yet musky scent in the air of interfacing, his armor fluffing almost subconsciously. But he was more tired than he was horny, though, so he allowed himself to slip back into recharge. He could get Dirge to roll around with him later...once he was more awake!

Thrust didn’t seem to care that Ramjet was annoyed, far too occupied with the thorough fragging he got. Dirge was holding him tight, rutting into him as they chased their overloads. The sound of their frames meeting was both metallic and wet, lubricant becoming smeared all over their inner thighs from the romp.

Finally Thrust felt his lower middle tighten and then he overloaded with a shaky wail, Dirge jamming himself as deep as he could before he also spilled over. His delicate yet deadly curved claws like those of a taloned bird hooked into armor seems, holding his mate still as the spike knot inflated, locking them together and keeping almost all of the transfluid trapped inside the warm, rippling valve. Thrust carefully slumped down onto the berth, Dirge following and careful not to tug on his mate’s valve or get his spike yanked in any bad direction.

“There. Now you can rest,” Dirge huffed, starting to groom Thrust while they were literally stuck together. Thrust was purring softly, leaning back against his trine leader’s chest. Dirge crooned back, nuzzling at his mate’s cheek.

Everything was good. They could relax, nap, spend the rest of the evening together instead of going on a patrol...

-Dirge! You and your trine are to meet me in the command room in fifteen minutes-

Dirge jolted with surprise when Lord Megatron’s voice of all things came through on a com. The jerking motion of surprise got a sharp hiss out of Thrust, his valve tugged as the bulbous knot was pulled against the rim.

“Ow, Dirge! What gives?!”

-Sir, I’m...tied up at the moment. I will bring my trine as soon as I’m able to walk- Silence on the other end of the line and then a deep, warning growl.

-If you are not here within thirty minutes, I will have you all punished-

And that was the end of the com, Dirge’s fading erection losing all stiffness even faster now. He hoped they could pull apart in only fifteen minutes, but sometimes they stayed stuck together for twenty-five. Thrust was tight and Seeker valves had a way of cycling back down to size right away. They were nimble creatures and their valve calipers seemed to have an uncanny ability to snug back into place.

“Lord Megatron just called all of us to the command room.”

Dirge’s aura went from peaceful and content to tense and unsure. He didn’t know what this was all about. Had one of them done something to make trouble behind his back? Ramjet woke with a startled ‘what’s going on?!’ when he felt Dirge’s emotions change so quickly.

“We need to look presentable. The moment we can pull apart, get into the wash rack. Ramjet, go now. Polish. I’m not sure what this is about but we’ll be looking like elite Seekers,” Dirge ordered, wincing as Ramjet essentially clambered over them and went running to the tiny wash rack in their room.

“I didn’t do anything if that’s what you’re thinking,” Thrust said quickly, nervous and stressed in a matter of seconds. The only thing keeping him from his typical pacing was that his mate was spike deep in him.

“None of us have done anything which may be what is upsetting Megatron. He wanted a patrol tonight, Starscream called it off...it’s possible we’re going to be walking into a beating. Be prepared in case we are.”

Thrust whimpered, wings trying to tuck in against his frame. Dirge purred softly, trying to reassure him that if there was any abuse to be taken, he would readily take the hit for both his mates. Many in the ranks thought Dirge was just a broody, aloof Seeker, but in the safety of their own private space he was every bit the protector and trine leader he should be.

After only ten minutes they were able to pull apart without too much discomfort, the knot depressurizing at rapid pace thanks to the stress of the situation now at hand. They both rushed for the wash rack, eager to get the scent of sex off their frames. Ramjet was clumsily slathering his armor with polish, trying to look like something he wasn’t—a refined creature. Ramjet was the non-Noble of the group and had no clue how to correctly polish himself when not guided.

Dirge rushed the shower, squeezing into the wash rack with Thrust. It was the best they could manage, each desperately drying off and then throwing on polish. Once all three were somewhat presentable, Dirge hurried them out of their quarters and down the winding halls to Megatron’s command center. When they entered Dirge took the lead, opening the door to find Megatron sitting at the head of the ‘war table’ as they called it, and the table was covered in fuel of different types.

All three Seekers looked stunned, Megatron quick to speak.

“Sit,” he commanded, watching as Ramjet and Thrust practically stumbled over each other to obey.

Dirge was composed, moving with considerable grace compared to the others. He nodded his thanks and sat down nearest Megatron, his deep red optics checking over the array of food. This was...not what he had expected, nor warned the other two about.

“Do you know why I have called you here?”

“No, Sir. I will admit I do not,” Dirge replied evenly, careful not to incite any violent outbursts from the tank. Those types were so incredibly dangerous. One moment all was well and the next they were ripping someone limb from limb.

Megatron’s rough, battle worn face curled into a strange thing between a smirk and a smile.

“You are being rewarded! For work well done. Your trine alone I can count on,” Megatron rumbled, opening his arms to the energon cubes and fuel he had spread out across the table. “Eat and drink your fill. Those who are loyal are always rewarded.”

He even had a bottle of high grade at the ready, his own chalice filled. Dirge blinked but he returned the strange smile with one of his own. Unsure if it was a trap but unwilling to risk offending the brute by refusing, Dirge began to pour himself some of the high grade. Thrust and Ramjet eagerly started to fill their once-empty plates, a tiny chirrup of excitement escaping from Ramjet’s throat before he could hush it.

Megatron looked over at him, the black and white Seeker already starting to eat with the hunger of a turbo-fox that hadn’t seen food in weeks.

“What is that? That sound?” he asked, although he already knew damn well what it was.

Dirge got ready for a problem, about to answer but surprised when Ramjet did.

“It’s uh...a chirp thing. Seeker cant. I could...teach you if you want?”

Megatron looked pensive, Dirge readying to throw himself in front of his mates in case that fusion canon turned on, but thankfully Megatron seemed more intrigued than angry. 

“Why, what a pleasant offer! You will find me to be quite a student. I used to enjoy learning all manner of things.”

“Poetry, right?”

Dirge looked like he would have strangled Ramjet for being so forward, but Megatron seemed to enjoy this...strange meeting.

“Yes, Ramjet. Poetry of many kinds,” Megatron rumbled, Ramjet’s wings perking up with curiosity. 

“Wanna teach me how to make poetry?”

For a moment it looked like Megatron was annoyed, but then he nodded. “Those who do as commanded get rewards, and I could do well to return to my roots. When you have finished, we will go over the basics.”

Megatron felt this whole thing was ridiculous, but Soundwave had insisted it would work. The better fed and happier the secondary trine was, the more the command trine would want to follow their lead. Soundwave had insisted via com that how he dealt with his minicons was by giving rewards for good behavior while punishments were only used when truly needed. 

The warlord would try this...new method. But his patience was easily worn thin with his troops. If they didn’t make progress? Fine. He would simply beat them all within an inch of their life and he was sure there would be no disobedience for a time after that.

Dirge seemed to suspect there was a lot more to this sudden dinner party, eyeing Megatron closely as the other Seekers ate their fill. Ramjet ended up looking sick from stuffing his face and Thrust began to appear sleepy from the sudden 100% meter of his fuel tank. Dirge took another sip of the high grade, feeling the burn and warmth of the drink in his throat.

“Thank you, Sir. This is very generous of you. What shall we repay you with?” Dirge asked calmly, even though internally he was terrified for what Megatron might be playing. The silver tank chuckled, waving a dismissive hand.

“You will repay me with your continued good work out in the field and on the ship. Your trine causes me few troubles and therefore I will reward your leadership and your ability to keep these two in line.”

Dirge nodded, actually thinking that made some good sense. The Coneheads rarely got into serious trouble aside from Ramjet well, ramming something. They probably didn’t cost the war effort much and they tried to do as they were told.

“Do we get dessert?” Thrust asked, making Dirge want to smack him upside the head. He was asking Megatron of all people for dessert. This was some strange comedy play—it had to be!

“I’m sure I can arrange something for tomorrow.” 

Dirge stared. This was...happening tomorrow as well? 

“Sir, that’s very kind of you but-”

“I won’t have it any other way! Your trine will dine with me!” Megatron snarled back, all three Seekers leaning back in their chairs with wings perked in fear. Megatron finally realized he had just spooked all of them and tried to keep his temper in check. “Unless you have an objection?”

“No, none at all. We would be honored,” Dirge replied quickly, although now he wanted to leave as fast as possible before one of them said something wrong and that fusion canon turned on.

“We can start poetry lessons tonight. Come along,” Megatron suddenly announced, standing up now that he saw they were done hoarking down their meals in less than ten minutes. Dirge turned his back enough to hide that he was chugging the rest of his high grade.

If he was going to die tonight he might as well be overcharged for it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the smut that was promised!

None of the Seekers had ever seen Megatron’s quarters and for good reason. They were not high ranking enough for such an intimate meeting space and none of them were commander material. Dirge was a fine trine leader but he had no real skills as a general. Leaving him to care for his mates was enough to keep him busy and on his toes.

It was beyond strange to him that they were being invited to Lord Megatron’s chambers, his wings pinning back in nervousness. If Megatron made any moves there wasn’t a way to say ‘no.’ He was their ultimate commander, their leader. If he wanted one or all of them for...less tame activities, they would need to say yes regardless of what they were interested in.

Then again, Dirge knew his mates. Thrust would be happy enough to get any attention and Ramjet was tough enough to accept any perceived ‘challenge.’

‘The high grade was a blessing,’ Dirge thought to himself, not entirely sure what he was walking into.

Ramjet and Thrust obviously didn’t have any kind of survival sense because the moment they got into the nicely furnished room they went right for a lounge and settled down on it, waiting for lessons to start. Dirge felt a headache coming on, making his way over to the two fools now gazing at Megatron to hear what he had to say about poetry.

Megatron looked just as surprised as Dirge, not having expected such an easy winning of the trine. Weren’t Seekers distrustful things? Or maybe it was the newer bloodlines that had some complex about everyone else. So far the secondary trine was nothing but agreeable.

“Poetry is not something you will learn in one sitting, Ramjet,” Megatron rumbled, moving to take some data pads off a fully packed shelf. He still liked to read when no one was bothering him. That and he didn’t have Starscream and his trine sharing the space so it was quiet at night...

“Can we try though? I can make uh...the haiku things! The ones Earth creatures use!” Ramjet barked, wings flicking in a proud way. “Want me to recite one?”

“Go right ahead,” Megatron rumbled, curious to see what Ramjet was talking about. Thrust was also staring at his trine mate in awe. He knew how to recite poetry? Since when?!

“The Autobots die  
We like killing them often  
We win lots!”

Ramjet was counting on his digits, talon-like claws so delicate and deadly looking all at the same time. He frowned, realizing after a moment that the last stanza had only three syllables.

“Okay so the last part I’m changing to “we win lots of stuff.”

He then looked up at Megatron from the lounge, so puffed up and proud of himself. Megatron first looked confused and then the warlord actually smiled a bit. It was a twisted thing, a smirk that was trying to be a real grin. Dirge didn’t like it, the deep blue and gold mech moving to protect his mates from whatever wrath was sure to fall upon them.

“Excellent, Ramjet!” Megatron rasped, the smile widening. This one looked more normal, but Dirge still didn’t like a smiling leader. It was even more intimidating than when he was openly angry!

“Thanks! I thought that one up in the wash rack a few weeks ago.”

So proud!

Dirge wanted to shake Ramjet and snap him out of the ‘impress Megatron with things that aren’t actually impressive’ trance. He was making a fool of himself and the warlord would surely grow tired of the black and white mech’s rather basic thought process. Ramjet had hit his head one too many times and he wasn’t the brightest star in the galaxy.

“You now must master the more complex verse! I will teach you what you need to know.”

Megatron grabbed a reading chair and dragged it over so he was sitting across from the Seekers, Dirge now set right between Thrust and Ramjet. The warlord then began to explain to Ramjet how more complicated poetry worked and he even began to recite some himself. Dirge couldn’t believe it. He now remembered how adept at oratory Megatron had been when he was younger.

The tank was a brute but he was also strangely refined at the same time. His voice was deep and husky yet he spoke with eloquence. The lines of his own poetry rolled off his glossa like silk, his war worn faceplate starting to soften and lose a few thousand years as he remembered how things had once been. All three Seekers gawked at him.

They were getting a private poetry lesson and show from their leader! It truly was a reward!

“Wow,” Thrust sighed when the silver tank had finished, Megatron actually appearing to puff his armor anticipating praise. “That was so...so good! I remember when you gave speeches like that and it was always great listening to you.”

“You’re quite the flatterer, Thrust,” Megatron chuckled, watching Ramjet’s wings as they flicked and swept about in Seeker cant.

Megatron actually knew the Seeker language to some degree thanks to Starscream. At the moment he was able to understand Ramjet was impressed and also the final sweep of the wings partially down his back and fanned out was...arousal. And he knew that from the days of Starscream’s much more pleasant company.

It had been some time but the warlord most certainly wouldn’t reject such a pretty creature. The ‘Coneheads’ were often ignored for their helms and slightly older model configurations. Really all it was was an older bloodline, one that actually had more history than the newer ‘pretty Seekers’ with the boxier helms and more nimble frames.

He leaned back in his chair, smirking at Ramjet and his little wing displays. Ramjet seemed to notice he was being looked at, the black and white mech puffing up his armor to try looking ‘big and tough’ which only made Megatron chuckle. As a tank he didn’t take the armor fluffing as anything more than a cute little gesture. A Seeker could be so readily torn apart by a frame type like his any kind of display would just be for show, nothing more.

Megatron didn’t see a single one of them as a threat.

Dirge was tensed up, glaring at Ramjet as if to silently tell him to knock it off.

-He can read your wings, idiot. You’re almost presenting to him when you fan them out like that- he commed, deciding he couldn’t let Ramjet keep this up.

-He’s not bad to look at! Rough and all but his voice! Come on Dirge, like you didn’t just feel totally amazing when he talked all that poetry!- Ramjet shot back, stubborn as usual. Headstrong...just like his name suggested.

-If he wants to, I wouldn’t say no!-

-Ramjet!-

-What, we’re getting rewards and stuff! It’ll be fun! Besides, think about it. We’ll be the command trine soon enough if we keep this up! He actually likes us I think! Come on, don’t you want to see what he’s capable of? He used to fool around with Starscream and the others...-

-No! We are not getting entangled with our commander! That’s foolish, making any emotional connections with someone who could tear our limbs off in seconds! He’s a tank, Ram. They’re unhinged, the whole lot of them. One moment he could curl up with you and the next rip your fuel pump out because you looked at him funny!-

-I wanna risk it-

Dirge’s Outlier ability was very strong now with displeasure, the broody and aloof energy enveloping Ramjet and Thrust. Megatron also noticed it but said nothing. Ah, so now they were fighting over what they wanted to do. That was cute.

Ramjet stood up and ruffled his armor as if shaking off oil after a bath and went to find a new place to settle. He picked out another chair nearby and plopped down in it, giving Dirge a nasty glare as the silent power struggle ensued. Dirge’s wings pinned high and tight on his back, a clear show of anger towards his wayward mate.

Thrust looked sad, the most submissive of the tine easily swayed by his trine leader’s moods. He stayed where he was, feeling the energy practically radiating from his mate. He didn’t want to upset Dirge or disappoint him. He loved his mate very much!

“Enough of this Seeker drama,” Megatron barked, deciding he wouldn’t allow Dirge and Ramjet any more time to battle each other. “If you are done learning poetry you may go. If you would like to continue, I would not reject the company.”

Ramjet inched his chair closer, now right next to the tank. “I want to learn more!”

“We are not going to waste our leader’s time by making him recite poetry and teach you how to make your own! Ramjet, Lord Megatron has far more important things to do than to fawn over you-”

“Oh Dirge, you mustn’t worry about that! I have nothing planned for the evening besides rewarding my most loyal soldiers,” Megatron replied, his voice a bit huskier and more alluring than before. Dirge sat up straighter, trying to ignore how...sexy that sounded.

Did Megatron really remember how to seduce Seekers after all this time without Starscream cuddled up with him? The whole army knew what the command trine got up to with the warlord but no one had openly dared say anything about it out loud.

Dirge took another good look at the tank. Megatron truly wasn’t bad to look at. Rough, battle worn, older, but he was not at all ugly. He had a strong but attractive faceplate and even the ‘bucket helm’ was fitting for him. It wasn’t nearly as ridiculous as the Autobots made it sound. The blue and gold Seeker eyed him warily all the same, nervous to get too close because he knew what creatures like Brawl and Blitzwing were capable of—and they were nothing compared to Megatron.

The warlord could tell they were all debating whether or not to come close, so he finally made a move. He was becoming more interested and figured he might as well have a fun night. It had been so long since he had romped with Starscream, Skywarp, or Thundercracker.

Time to remember the ‘good old days.’

“Are you more curious about poetry or myself, Ramjet?”

“Uh...both?” Ramjet replied, caught off guard by that question. Even then he fanned out his wings in a tiny little ‘I’m interested’ gesture. Megatron caught it and chuckled.

“Dirge, if you would like to take Thrust back to your quarters you may. Ramjet and I will go over some poetry together.”

He smirked at Dirge, almost teasing. Dirge hissed softly.

“I am not leaving any of my trine mates anywhere. We’re staying.” 

“Very well. Perhaps you’ll change your minds and want to join in?”

He beckoned for Ramjet and instantly the Seeker was on his pedes, following. Megatron insisted they needed to get another data pad, ushering Ramjet just out of sight for a moment. The tank moved quickly, pinning the aerial up against the wall with a low, rumbly growl.

“You’ve offered and I’m accepting.”

Ramjet rolled his helm back, exposing his neck as he made a tiny chirrip. “Can we take it to the berth? Or uh...I like getting thrown over a desk or something.”

“The couch will do. I had no intentions of breaking my desk tonight.”

Megatron hefted Ramjet up over a treaded shoulder a moment later, hearing a squawk from Dirge at seeing his mate being carried over to a secondary lounge near the berth. Megatron draped Ramjet over it and began to rub soothing circles between the Seeker’s wings like an expert, Ramjet purring sweetly in reply.

“Dirge, Thrust, you are welcome to join us.”

Dirge leapt up and came storming over, Thrust following skittishly behind. He was ready to bolt, his mate’s energy making him more nervous that something really bad was about to happen. But the way Ramjet was purring like a felinoid—nothing terrible was happening to him! On the contrary, the black and white Seeker was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Did you even ask him?!” Dirge snapped before he could help himself. Megatron just laughed.

“I am not complete barbarian from the pits, Dirge. I asked and there was acceptance. You know as well as I do that I have never condoned rape amongst the soldiers. I have seen my fair share from the gladiatorial pits and have no love for it. We all know it happens still, but I most certainly asked your mate.”

“The answer was yes, Dirge! He’s really good at finding the best wing spots, too...” Ramjet replied, trailing off into a happy churr as Megatron’s hand rubbed under one wing to massage the joint there. He had Ramjet as a melted puddle of happiness already and he had merely touched his wings.

Dirge was still unhappy with the madness that was unfolding but he couldn’t stop Ramjet. Not if he wanted this as much as he claimed he did. Thrust was now curiously inching forward to see what magic Megatron was doing with his hands, too.

The silver mech chuckled a bit, looping a strong arm around Ramjet’s waist to lift him a little further over the other side of the couch, tipping his aft up in a lovely display. Megatron’s hand wandered from wings down to hips, blunt digits dipping between seams and tracing across protoflesh beneath. Ramjet shuddered, shimmying his hips in an eager way. Megatron lightly patted his aft in reply.

“Patience, Ramjet.”

He got a whine in response, the warlord laughing softly. Yes, Seekers might look different but they all had certain traits. Fussy when not given what they wanted but oh so sweet when they were pampered. Soundwave’s little idea was actually quite successful! Megatron briefly wondered if the third in command knew this would be how things would play out behind closed doors.

Megatron’s hand slid between shapely thighs, toying with the seams of both the inner hips and the valve and spike panel. Ramjet was trying hard to behave, not opening until given an order to do so. The tank rumbled with appreciation. Well trained already! He had Dirge to thank for that.

“Good mech. Open your panels. Let me see how handsome you are,” he rumbled, those panels snapping back much faster than he thought possible. 

Ramjet’s spike was sleek and almost entirely white save for some black highlight along the underside. His valve was also nearly all white, although the outer nub was a soft gray and the puffy, swollen folds became a darker gray closer to the valve entrance.

“Stunning,” Megatron praised, hands firmly squeezing Ramjet’s aft in appreciation. “And so well behaved~”

Ramjet mewled with need, the Seeker quivering his wings in a wide open display of ‘I’m ready for you.’ Megatron smiled, patting Ramjet’s thigh.

“You’re not ready yet, my Seeker.”

Megatron curled a hand around the spike, stroking firmly but not painfully. The stimulation got Ramjet bucking into his palm, trying to keep the pace. The silver tank chuckled at the eagerness, giving him a few more strokes and then toyed with the weeping head. Ramjet’s valve responded with arousal as well, clear lubricant creating a glistening sheen against the puffy folds.

Ramjet let out a keening sound of need when a finger finally slid against his valve, smearing slick lubricant all over as a few tiny drops escaped onto his inner thighs. He leaned back into Megatron’s hand, trying to get the digit to go inside the tight slit.

“Please please please please,” he chanted, feeling Megatron’s other hand grip around his hip armor to hold him.

“So well trained, Ramjet! You’re asking so nicely~” Megatron replied, grinning at Ramjet’s readiness to please. “I was a fool to choose the other trine over yours, Dirge. Please forgive me for that folly.”

Dirge couldn’t reply, too shocked by everything. Ramjet choked on a happy cry when Megatron’s thick digit slid into his valve, swiftly followed by another when it was clear the calipers could handle it. He quivered under the expert touches, groaning when Megatron curled his fingers just perfectly up into a spot a spike could never hope to reach.

“Hnnnggg, Megatron! Oh frag yeah, right there! Keep doing that!” Ramjet begged, squirming and shuddering with pleasure as the tank easily worked his valve right up into a wet, sopping mess.

The silver tank was quite relaxed, very much in his element now that he had such a willing partner. There was no snark, no sass, no nipping as Starscream was so fond off, just a happy Seeker begging for spike. Megatron knew he couldn’t deny Ramjet, not when he was so well mannered and perfect. The sound of a spike panel snapping back made Dirge and Thrust look over to see their commander’s very erect and very thick spike pressurize, standng at attention against his lower middle. He was...every bit as attractive as Skywarp had always bragged he was.

“Wow,” Thrust murmured while Dirge swallowed dryly. 

The spike was proportionate and looked wonderfully heavy, sure to stuff anyone full with ease. Most of all a slimmer Seeker frame. The stiff length was silver with glowing red biolights along the sides, the lines meeting just under the impressive tip.

The warlord was not disappointing in the slightest!

Even Dirge had to feel a little...urge when he saw how virile the other mech looked.

Then it was lost from sight into Ramjet’s waiting valve. Megatron hissed deeply with relief as his throbbing spike slid into the tight, warm heat of his current partner. Ramjet’s valve calipers constricted and released in a dizzying wave of pleasure, Megatron actually having to stop halfway inside so he didn’t lose control completely.

He growled, thrusting firmly a moment later to shove the last of his spike hilt-deep into the moaning Seeker. Ramjet trilled, wings fluttering as his valve experienced the biggest spike he’d taken in his life. Megatron was girthy, forcing the valve open to a point almost to discomfort as the calipers worked to adjust. Ramjet loved the ache and the overwhelming pressure though, rocking his hips back to get some friction.

Megatron caught them, stilling his movement. Ramjet whined with need, valve clamping down hard around the invading spike.

“Megatron, please-”

“How do you want this, my air warrior?” Megatron asked through grit dentas, using all his willpower not to simply rut like a mechanimal. He took Ramjet under the jaw, turning his faceplate towards him. The Seeker’s cheeks were flush with beautiful periwinkle-blue energon, the color exclusive to the Seeker frame type. “I can be gentle.”

“Hard! H-hard!” Ramjet gasped, clawed digits hooking desperately into the other side of the couch. “I don’t want to walk tomorrow!”

“Aaah, you seem to know my mind! Very good, Ramjet.”

And that was the last real conversation the two would have, Megatron suddenly going from controlled to ferocious. He slammed his hips forward, Ramjet gasping as he was shoved against the couch with his claws tearing the mesh fabric on the other side. Then his world erupted in the white-hot bliss of an amazing frag, Megatron setting a punishing, fierce pace.

Ramjet was positively singing with trills and cries as he was fragged over the couch, their frames meeting in that hot, wet way of interfacing. Thrust and Dirge stared at the sight, both of them heating up as they watched Megatron’s lubricant-slicked spike plunge in and out of their trine mate’s slit. It truly was a rut, the tank not holding back his power for even a moment.

The silver mech didn’t make much noise aside deep grunts and growls, jaw clenched as he chased his own overload. He knew Ramjet would follow his lead like the good submissive he was, Megatron’s hands grabbing at Ramjet’s hips to pull him back against each inward motion. It had been so long since having a partner so Megatron knew he wouldn’t have the stamina to last. He doubted that Ramjet would judge, not when he was clearly having such a great time.

Still, getting to hear those beautiful Seekers cries again, the sounds that were almost musical, was invigorating for the former gladiator. How he missed Starscream and his trine and now he had replaced them with an even more beautiful set of three. Soundwave had been right. Pamper the Seekers. Make your Seekers happy.

Megatron snarled deeply as he felt pressure building in his lower middle, suddenly yanking Ramjet from where he was draped over the couch. He immediately sat down with Ramjet in his lap, Megatron getting a great look at the aerial’s blissed out faceplate as he bucked upwards into him. Ramjet was still gasping and begging, the warlord reaching up to scruff him. Ramjet’s valve tightened at the display of dominance as he exposed his neck, his thighs trembling as he tried to spread them wider still.

“You are going to overload when I do and take my knot. Understood?” “Yes!” Ramjet cried, the sound turning into a needy whine.

Megatron jammed his spike as deep as he could manage for a few more thrusts before he overloaded hard, hands gripping Ramjet’s hip and scruffed nape so firmly he almost buckled hip plating to a painful degrees. Hot transfluid immediately flooded the aerial’s valve, a massive knot engaging at the base of Megatron’s spike to keep them in place. Ramjet’s overload was just as intense, the knot so thick and firm that he was easily pulled over the edge, his valve spasming as he found his release. The knot was huge, certainly a very big stretch for a tight valve, but Ramjet loved the intense pressure and ache if he so much as moved.

Overstimulated he slumped against Megatron’s chest to pant heavily, the tank also taking a moment to regain control of himself. A hand finally moved from Ramjet’s hip to his wings again, petting him with something close to affection. His other hand released the back of the Seeker’s neck, rubbing away the ache as best he could. The area would be sore tomorrow from being so firmly held.

“That was wonderful. You are wonderful, Ramjet. So obedient and handsome,” Megatron sighed, now giving the tired out mech a caress under the jaw and some light scritches there. Megatron remembered it had been a good spot for Skywarp and was relieved to see Ramjet responding well, a happy but tired churr replying.

“You’re...really big,” he said dumbly, now resting his chin on the brute’s shoulder right by the collar guard as he regained his venting. His valve was stuffed full of spike and transfluid now, the heat and pressure so good he actually felt like he might overload again just at the thought. He shuddered, optics dimming for a moment.

Megatron carefully shifted, moving his own legs so their lewd joining could be better seen by the onlookers. Ramjet’s valve rim was stretched wide, the rounded knot just behind it. Thrust was chirping, wings fanned out wanting to go next (if Megatron read that correctly) and even Dirge was looking hot and bothered. The warlord smirked at him.

“I’ll certainly be able to take care of you both tonight if you so desire.”

“I do!” Thrust yipped, eagerly scampering over to snuggle right up against the sexy tank and his even sexier trine mate. “Ramjet, you look so good like that.”

“I’m gonna be so sore and I can’t wait to get carried around tomorrow,” Ramjet purred, so pleased with the persistent ache in his valve. It was exactly what he liked!

“Dirge?”

The warlord opened his other arm for the trine leader to approach, Dirge taking a moment before he made a decision. Megatron was patient as Dirge rose from the lounge, gracefully striding over before settling down on the couch beside him. The scent of interfacing was in the air, different from when it was just the trine—but not in a bad way. It was almost more electric or even smokey, Megatron’s scent overpowering but wonderful.

“I accept your apology,” Dirge replied as he leaned against Megatron’s side. “Starscream’s trine is quite appealing. It would be easy to choose them.”

“Now that I have seen the error of my ways, I have a new favorite trine,” Megatron chuckled, so pleased that the plan was working perfectly. “Tell me, where would you like to get know each other better?”

“The berth would be preferred,” Dirge replied, trying not to smile at Megatron’s surprising demeanor. 

“Traditional as I expected, but not at all disappointing.”

Not disappointing in the least! Megatron rumble-purred, leaning back with a Seeker in each arm and another on his spike. Ahhh, the perks of being the leader! He could get used to this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirge decides being the new favorite trine is not at all a bad thing~

Megatron could truly say that interfacing was a workout. After he disengaged from Ramjet and settled the poor, achy thing down on the berth, he was immediately cuddled up with by Thrust. The pretty submissive was swiftly given all the attention he could want, actually just interested in his spike since earlier he had been with Dirge. The tank didn’t mind at all, more than happy to watch as he stroked Thrust right into an overload, the maroon and gold mech painting his belly with transfluid.

Now that Thrust was totally worn out and ready for a nap, Megatron turned to Dirge who had been patiently waiting his turn.

“They’ll get cold without blankets,” Dirge said, seeing both trine mates were already fast asleep curled up together on Megatron’s berth.

“Use whatever you like to make a nest for them. I have no attachment to any of the bedding.”

Megatron took the moment to rest as Dirge tended to his mates, the Seeker surprised to find they were already somewhat cleaned up (once again, Megatron was correct when he claimed not to be a barbarian). The trine leader hefted the two around until he could tuck them in right, shoving a mesh pillow under their helms.

The silver mech watched, vermillion optics bright in the dim light of the room.

“You have a lot to be responsible for, don’t you?”

Dirge looked surprised to hear Megatron say something like that, nodding slowly in reply. 

“Not nearly as much as yourself.”

“I have generals to take some of the burden. You are bonded to them for life. I am not bonded to any of my merry band of fools,” Megatron chuckled, although none of what he said was cruel or some kind of game. The mech had a temper but it was not present after such a good time with his new favorites. 

Dirge came to sit with the hulking mech, sigh-purring.

“I would take them any day over a whole army. When would you like my trine to head out? Once you and I are finished?” Dirge asked, somewhat curt since he almost treated this like a business deal. So far he expected a catch, a game, a trick. Yet there didn’t seem to be any surprises...

Megatron laughed.

“You may all stay here. It will give me an excuse to open up the other side of the room. It has been empty for so long I had it closed off. I come from the mines. We never had large spaces unless sharing them with the others.”

Dirge still couldn’t believe this was Megatron. This was their killer warmonger, the one who had slaughtered millions, and yet now he was a tired old soldier looking for companionship. It was the most bizarre thing Dirge had heard all day but things were only going to get weirder as soon as he fragged his commander.

Very weird, indeed.

A heavy arm draped around Dirge’s shoulders, the blunt digits expertly starting to rub wing seams as he had done with both other Seekers. He watched as Dirge’s frame loosened and the brooding aura started to fade away into something more appealing.

“Hush. You deserve to relax, Dirge.”

“You’ll have to help me learn how to do that,” Dirge murmured, leaning back into the warm hand. Oh Primus, the other two hadn’t been lying when they said how good Megatron was at the petting. He must have given Starscream and his trine so much attention!

And now? Now it was Dirge’s turn.

They were going to be the best trine. They were going to be favored over Starscream’s flock. It was going to be glorious, rising from nothing to becoming Megatron’s strange little harem. It didn’t bother Dirge as much as it had a few hours ago. But his mood was vastly improved by the wing rubs.

“What would you like, Dirge?”

“Not as rough as Ramjet. Something in the middle. Firm but not punishing,” Dirge replied, feeling like he might as well give Megatron all the details of what he liked. “I don’t have any special position I like most, all of them are equally appealing. I don’t need foreplay to...make things fit, so long as you start somewhat slow.”

“I have something in mind for you,” Megatron hummed, motioning for Dirge to follow. He did. Megatron noted how the mech walked beside him, not behind or ahead. He considered them equals, which while not actually true it was a change that Megatron liked. Only Soundwave treated him like that while Starscream had always walked ahead to fake leadership.

This Seeker was something different.

A blunt digit pressed a button on the wall and the sheet of metal that Dirge assumed had been a stationary wall pulled apart, revealing a much larger room with window seats, another berth, more shelves lined with data pads, couches, a larger desk. It was clean, almost untouched.

“Come.”

Dirge obeyed, the pair walking to the second berth. Megatron waited for his Seeker to get into it first before he joined, shoving the bedding out of the way only to pull it back up over them. Dirge’s valve was hot with arousal, the idea of not seeing everything happening but feeling it. Frag, he liked that idea. Megatron smirked at the expression on Dirge’s faceplate, his heavy weight settling over the Seeker’s chest.

Low rumble-purrs started up from Megatron’s throat, the brute of a mech showing surprising control and gentleness as he leaned closer and nuzzled against Dirge’s faceplate. Dirge trilled back, accepting the gesture with no qualms. He enjoyed the proximity and the affection just as any Seeker would.

All one had to do was get past his walls and then Dirge was a perfectly good companion. “Open.”

Dirge’s valve panel snicked back, the mech actually squirming a bit with anticipation. His venting was heavier, louder, more eager. Megatron growled with arousal, his spike freed from its confines to stand stiff yet again. He had enough transfluid left to fill Dirge up and claim him. All three were going to be his Seekers now.

The bigger mech nudged a knee between warm thighs, feeling Dirge shift to part them further. The covers shuffled but stayed over them, Megatron pressing down and forward as he guided his spike between valve folds. He had listened to everything the Seeker had said, forgoing foreplay and getting right to the main event.

He went slow but was glad to find that while Dirge was tight, he knew how to relax. His frame accepted the spike without terrible discomfort, Dirge’s clawed digits hooking onto Megatron’s strong shoulders. A soft mewling moan escaped before the former Noble could help it, the thickness of the spike so unlike what he was used to. Ramjet and Thrust had nothing on this...

“Nnnggg...oh frag...” Dirge groaned, feeling Megatron push deeper still until the silver spike was fully snugged into the rippling, tight warmth.

Megatron said nothing, instead pushing Dirge more firmly into the berth with his frame’s superior weight. Then he started to roll his hips, rocking in and out of Dirge with firm but not fast movements. The tank grinned in victory when he got Dirge to sing for him, the trilling cries and whimpers so beautiful, most of all coming from the quietest and most composed of the trine.

“Good...that’s it...keep moaning for me, Dirge. You are my soldier. You may lead a trine but you will always be under me,” Megatron murmured, voice deep and commanding as he mouthed lightly along Dirge’s jawline and throat. Dirge’s frame trembled with unhidden desire.

“A-always. I...I...unnnhh, right there!” Dirge begged, arching as Megatron’s spike tip bumped up against a cluster of nodes that set his world on fire.

The pleading was rewarded by Megatron picking up the pace a bit and hitting that spot over and over again as asked, Dirge truly getting vocal now. He was much louder than Megatron would have expected and the warlord loved it. Adored it. He wanted to make Dirge cry his name over and over again.

He felt the valve tightening up, the calipers fluttering around his spike and then Dirge flipped over the edge and overloaded hard. His valve cycled down so tightly it almost hurt, Megatron hissing as a rush of lubricant followed the tightness. Thrusting through the overload, not giving Dirge a moment, Megatron finished a few moments later.

A short snarl as Megatron firmly pinned Dirge down into the berth, grabbing his shoulders to keep him still as he pumped him full of transfluid and the knot kicked in. Dirge shuddered again as a smaller overload followed right after the first as the massive knot filled him to his absolute limits. He kept his thighs apart, trying to make more room as bliss flooded his systems.

Panting hard, he lay nice and still until Megatron was done, groaning a little at the feeling of being so full. The pressure was glorious, every small shift of the spike making his sensors light up with pleasure. He was never going to forget this.

“All of you are so well behaved with taking a knot. I’m impressed,” Megatron hummed, a hand sliding down to pet over Dirge’s middle almost as if he wished he could feel a bump there. Starscream was skinnier so sometimes he showed.

“I...know better than to thrash around with one.”

Dirge actually smiled a little bit, purring softly as Megatron cupped his jaw and pet across his cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Smart mech. Now rest. When we can move apart I will return you to the rest of your trine,” Megatron rumbled, settling contentedly like a dragon who had now discovered a hoard of gold he didn’t know he had.

Dirge mumbled a ‘yes sir’ before he was actually drifting into something between a nap, post-overload bliss, and full recharge. Twenty minutes later he came back to the conscious world when he was being moved, a rush of warmth pooling out of his valve before being cleaned up with a rag. He yawned, chirping quietly as he was suddenly picked up and then carried. He rested a heavy coned head on a treaded shoulder, purring softly at being moved.

“I can get them back to the quarters...” he mumbled, although Megatron didn’t say anything besides a low ‘hush’ as he settled Dirge into the main berth next to his mates. The blue and gold Seeker shut up immediately, snuggling in with familiar frames and scents.

Megatron sat heavily on his side of the berth, looking over the three aerials with an expression that one might have said was genuine affection. Then he stiffly settled down under the mesh covers, stretching out tired joints. Even so, he felt wonderful. Two hearty overloads and three happy Seekers. What more could a leader want?

His night got even better when four hours later he felt something shifting against him. Growling softly Megatron onlined one optic to find Dirge was nestled into one arm and Ramjet was somehow on the other side, and draped halfway over his chest was Thrust, the Seeker’s clawed digits lightly kneading between armor seams as he recharged. A lovely little Seeker-pile. 

The tank chuckled tiredly, wondering why Soundwave had waited so long to tell him about this glorious new plan.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream finds out he is being replaced--and he doesn't like the sound of that!

It took exactly four days. Starscream noticed how his trine was on double scouting duty first, then he noticed how good Dirge's trine looked. Beautifully polished, brighter color nanites, and their frames even seemed to be filling out—as if they were getting full meals. Starscream was of course a raging mess when he realized that he was being replaced with the fragging Coneheads, bursting into the command trine quarters and startling his mates.

“Star, can you not do that? I think I just broke a data pad,” Thundercracker grumbled, picking up the damaged one from the floor that he had just dropped.

“Yeah what gives? I was about to take a nap and you wrecked it,” Skywarp huffed, glowering in the impish way only he could.

“Megatron has done the unthinkable!” Starscream yowled, shoving his desk chair angrily into its rightful place as he stormed into the room. 

Thundercracker just raised an optic ridge at the little display.

“And that would be?”

“He has replaced us!”

“Nah, that’s not possible! We’re still the command trine!” Skywarp assured, flopping over onto their shared berth.

Starscream rounded on Skywarp, optics red fire. “No! Haven’t you seen Dirge’s ilk recently?! They’re looking ten times better than us! He is giving them special treatment!”

“I haven’t seen them much. Ramjet here or there but they look the same, Screamer.”

“They do NOT!” Starscream spat back, all worked up. “He is insulting us! He is coddling them and I won’t stand for it!”

“Starscream,” Thundercracker said evenly, wings flicking with concern. “You wanted nothing to do with Megatron anymore. You told him that and you told us that. Whatever he’s doing now you shouldn’t get involved in—it’ll just upset you. So what if he has new playthings, he’ll get bored of them like he always does.”

“No he won’t! He will like them, I know he will! He is supposed to only like us! The Coneheads are hideous older models that are dumber than bricks!”

“Okay, Dirge is kinda hot in a tall, dark, and handsome kind of way-” 

“SKYWARP!”

The black and purple menace flipped Starscream off as the trine leader lunged at him, teleporting away at the last second. Where he went no one knew. He was just suddenly gone. That left Thundercracker and Starscream, the first and second of their little trine. Thundercracker leaned back with a low rumble.

“Starscream, calm down. Let’s think about this logically.”

“I can’t think about this at all! I can’t believe he’s done this to insult me!”

The tricolor Seeker angrily paced around the room, shoving another harmless desk chair against a desk. His wings were pinned like angry felinoid audials, the mech totally livid. Thundercracker watched him in his neurotic little ‘Megatron doesn’t want me so I’m going to tantrum’ moment, not saying another word until his mate had calmed down enough to be somewhat reasoned with.

“Starscream, let’s go back to when things started, okay? When you had the big fight with Megatron and you told him you loathed him and wanted nothing to do with anything he did? He got the message. He’s moving on.”

“He can’t move on!”

“Why not?”

“Because we deserve all the pampering and special things! We are higher ranked! We are better than they could ever hope to be! We are more attractive!”

“Starscream...” Thundercracker sighed, shaking his head a little. He knew what his mate was like. The odds that he didn’t come up with some crazy scheme to win Megatron back even though he apparently DIDN’T WANT HIM BACK were very high. And of course Thundercracker and Skywarp would be involved somehow.

“I don’t want them getting anything that we don’t get,” Starscream insisted, armor fluffed like an angry, disgruntled cyber-parrot. Probably a cockatoo. They also loved to scream.

“If that’s the case then I’m sure you can tell Megatron you’re sensing he’s playing favorites. If you don’t make this about the relationship you used to have with him he may be more willing to listen to your side of things. Star, you have to remember the fight. It was pretty serious stuff you two said to each other.”

Thundercracker was hoping his mate would hear reason and not go storming in to challenge Megatron’s new companions. The last thing they needed was to get into a Seeker war, two trines against the other. He rumbled deeply, a soft crackle of energy in the air. He didn’t have anything against the Coneheads but he would most certainly back his lover no matter what.

“I want equality with those fools! That is it! I want the energon they’re getting, I want the special polish, I want to have everything that there is to get! I’m sure he’s doing this to make me jealous, the wretched brute. I won’t let him win!” Starscream replied, pacing around in an angry circle. His mate watched him, sighing again.

“If you’re going to talk to him, we all need to be there.”

Suddenly there was a pop in the room and Skywarp reappeared, grinning like the devil he was. “Heya guys! Soooo, what are we talking about?”

“We are plotting to rid Megatron of the Coneheads and claim all the perks he has wrongfully given to them!” Starscream shot back, armor ruffling with a soft clatter. Skywarp grinned.

“Want me to spy on them?”

Starscream visibly perked up at that idea, already starting to formulate a plan.

“Yes....yes you should spy on them. See what their new habits are and how Megatron treats them. I want to be sure of this before we make any moves. Once we know if he’s favoring them I will call him out at one of the command meetings. There is one set to meet two days from now.”

“Okay, I’ll go hang out with Ramjet and see what he’ll say!” Skywarp snickered, giving a mock salute before he teleported away again.

“At least we can know something about what Megatron is up to before we go rushing in...provided Skywarp doesn't make things worse,” Thundercracker huffed, still feeling like this was going to end poorly. Starscream was incredibly smart but when emotions took over he ceased to think in a logical way. Most of all when ‘Megatron emotions’ were in the mix. Starscream could become unhinged with his jealousy if anyone got around his supposed 'ex.'

Obviously Starscream wasn’t over it even though he had been the one to end things. It was almost amusing—if Thundercracker hadn’t been so closely involved.

“Come here, I’ll groom you. Might calm you down a little,” he said gently, motioning for his mate to come over.

He smiled when he got a lap full of Starscream, an unhappy warble from the tricolor mech soon turning into a much softer, happier churr as Thundercracker’s claws gently worked any grit out from tight seams. Even if Starscream was jealous of Megatron’s new favorites, Thundercracker wanted him to know he would never be replaced in the trine. He and Skywarp loved him even if he was...somewhat wild and difficult to handle.

Thundercracker hugged Starscream’s slim waist with one arm, squeezing him in a gentle hug.

They were going to get into some trouble but Thundercracker would have his leader’s back. Always.

————

Dirge couldn’t believe how well things were working out for the trine.

His mates looked beautiful now, their frames nicely filled out with proper energon and fuel intake. They looked like they did pre-war time, their armor sleek and shiny, sporting bright color nanites and metallics. Not to mention their armor fit properly on their frames as they gained weight back, showing off how they were actually much stockier than the newer Seeker breed.  
Their frames were heavier, bigger, and while not as agile as the Command Trine, they were attractive in their own right. They were stronger, tougher, and able to take a hit better. And even though they were configured differently than Megatron’s previous favorites, the warlord seemed quite taken with them.

He ate with them most nights, they were now invited to the command meetings, and of course the berthroom activities had been glorious. Megatron was a wonderful dominant, firm but strangely affectionate. It was a side of him no one knew existed, but now that they did? The Seekers basked in it, always eager to please since they had been given so much from the silver tank.

The feeling of being included and being wanted was intoxicating to the mechs. Even Dirge who generally seemed immune to flattery (he was a former Vosian Noble, after all) had no power to resist the oddly calming, protective presence of their leader. Having a tank on your side was not only useful, but it was comforting. The trine would always be safe if Megatron was vouching for them, and being creatures that flocked together in groups often larger than trines before the war, the Seekers were happy to have as much company as possible. 

“If you break one of his data pads, he’ll kill you,” Thrust warned, watching as Ramjet reached for one of the shelves.

“Pfff, I don’t break everything I touch! Just ‘cause my name’s Ramjet and all.” 

“You kinda have a reputation.”

Thrust rolled his citrine optics, flopping over in the berth and beginning the process of preening his arms. He was already clean but Seekers would always look for an excuse to groom. Ramjet was muttering about how he wasn’t that clumsy and the only reason why he flew into stuff was because he wanted to and planned for that to happen. His trine mate ignored him.

“Play nice, both of you. I’m going to go for a flight,” Dirge grunted, already sensing neither of his mates would join. They were both soaking up the relaxation since truly, no one knew when it might end. Megatron liked them now but what about in a few days?

Dirge exited Megatron’s quarters, striding down the hallway towards the flight deck. It would be nice to stretch his wings and maybe he would do a little fly-by of the command center so Megatron could get a good look at how he could maneuver-

“Dirge! Whatcha doing?”

The royal blue and gold Seeker stiffened up when he heard Skywarp, wings perking into a friendly gesture. It was tense though, a sign that he was not actually happy to see the black and purple menace. Generally when Skywarp was around there was either a prank or a stupid plot in the works. One wing flicked back with mild concern at the thought.

“I am about to go flying. Why do you ask?”

Skywarp trotted right over, bright scarlet optics twinkling.

“You’re not hanging out with Megs? Did he already get bored with you guys?”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, Dirge, you’re not that stupid! We all know what’s going on. He’s giving you extra special attention, right?”

Dirge’s wings went from somewhat friendly to instantly annoyed, his Outlier ability now clouding the area with defensive annoyance. Skywarp actually backed up a bit, not wanting to get influenced by the strange aura. Dirge hissed softly.

“What we do is none of your concern, Skywarp.”

“Oh but it is! I mean, we’re all Seekers. We all want the same things...” 

“Then you should tell your leader to make amends. It’s simple.”

Dirge pushed onward down the hallway towards the flight deck, intent on his time of peace. Skywarp was not going to ruin his good time. He simply wouldn’t allow it! Wings pinned slightly in a warning that he was no longer friendly, the mech hoped Mr. Menace would get the idea and go away.

Sadly for him Skywarp persisted, just at a greater distance.

“Are you staying in his room all the time now? I haven’t seen a single one of you guys at your quarters. If he’s holding you captive blink once for yes and twice for no, okay? I can teleport you all out of there!”

“Skywarp, we are not being held captive by anyone,” Dirge snapped, rounding on the pesty Seeker. Dirge was taller and he loomed with some pent up aggression over Skywarp. “Mind your business, unless you want to get into something you shouldn’t.”

The black and purple Seeker backed up, submissive enough to realize he had pushed it too far.

“Okay, okay, you guys are fine but still, maybe you can put in a good word for us with old Megs?”

“And why would I ever want to do that?” Dirge snapped, lip curled in disdain.

“Because we’re the Command Trine?”

“You won’t be for long,” Dirge shot back, for once playing the snobbish role with ease. “You’ve done nothing to impress Megatron lately so don’t expect to hang on to titles that have not been earned.”

Dirge took Skywarp’s shocked silence as a way to escape, the mech striding off a little faster than he wanted to admit to the deck where he immediately transformed and shot into the sky. He wanted one moment of peace. Was it that hard for the universe to just allow him a few minutes to himself? At this point the only area where he could be left alone was Megatron’s quarters and unlike his mates he couldn’t stay in there all day.

Everyone was starting to notice things were changing and he had to somewhat pretend that was not the case. The last thing he needed was for the triple changers to get envious since they were all massive and definitely not in the best of moods lately. Dealing with one other Seeker trine was more than enough to keep Dirge’s stress levels high.

Then again, the other trine was controlled by a backstabbing brat, so that would surely have something to do with Dirge’s desire to avoid conflict.

He made a tight figure eight in the sky, pushing his frame to go faster, harder, and perfect each of the aerial moves. The barrel rolls needed to be flawless, the dives measured and fully controlled, the upside down flips perfectly timed. Dirge had to be at his best because he had a nagging suspicion that when Starscream decided to make a move, it would be a challenge of some sort.

Somehow he was getting dragged into drama without even trying to play in the game.

Dirge skimmed across the roiled ocean waves around the base, feeling the spray against his wings. Earth was wretched in many regards but sometimes if he tried to distance himself from the organic materials he could pretend it was the Tyger Pax coastline. He wished so dearly that they could go home.

-Hey Dirge?- 

-Yes, Thrust?-

-Skywarp is kinda...in the room. With us. And Ramjet’s doing that thing he does before he gets into a fight...-

-Do NOT engage with him! Keep Ramjet from starting anything!- he ordered, swiftly turning and heading back at max speed before the two idiots got into a scrap.

Dirge wanted to scream. The gods were cruel. It had to be some inside joke among them, making it impossible for him to do much of anything without trouble on his heels. He just hoped that Ramjet could keep his temper and not start a fight. That was the last thing they needed.

————

“Get out,” Ramjet hissed, optics narrowed as he puffed up and glared at the intruder. Skywarp grinned, sauntering right into the room as if he owned the place. At one time that had been his room, shared with the trine and with their oh so glorious leader. Skywarp flicked one wing back with indifference, showing how little he cared about Ramjet’s threat display.

“Why should I? This is my spot, too.”

“WAS your spot. It’s ours now. You guys got dumped out because of Starscream’s big mouth,” Ramjet snapped back, the black and white mech trying to goad Skywarp into the first swing. Skywarp flippantly moved out of range and rolled onto the berth, Thrust hissing and backing up against a pillow, wings pinned.

“You aren’t going to start a fight, not unless you want to get beat up by Starscream later and possibly Megatron. He doesn’t take lightly to infighting, Rammy.”

“Call me that again and I’ll ram my fist up your-”

“Awww, you like me that much, huh? Not sure if I could fit a whole fist but hey, I’m adventurous, you’re adventurous!...why not give it a try and see if we have fun, huh?” Skywarp snickered, slyly grinning at Ramjet as the mech fumed.

Everything seemed to stand still for a moment, then the door of the warlord’s quarters slammed open and in stormed Dirge, the mech dripping with seawater and anger.

“Get out of the room. Now,” he growled, wings at the angriest angle a Seeker could make. Skywarp actually did look a little cowed by the dominant display, shuffling back on the berth looking innocent of all wrongs.

“I just came to say hello,” he chirped, trying to play cute. Dirge of course didn’t buy it, pointing a clawed digit at the door.

“Out!”

Skywarp huffed but he did scoot off the massive berth, trying to pretend he was indifferent to the whole scolding despite his droopy wings. He slunk around Dirge but made sure to smack Ramjet on the way out with one of his wings.

It set the other mech off like a bomb. Ramjet launched himself at Skywarp and in the blink of an optic the two were tearing into each other. Dirge ran to grab his mate and yank him off, wincing as when he pulled Ramjet back Skywarp got a good punch to his jaw. Ramjet just got angrier, kicking out and melting Skywarp’s calf with a thruster pede. The purple and black mech let out a short yelp and then he was gone with a pop, teleported away somewhere to lick his wounds. Dirge immediately grabbed Ramjet again and forced him to sit on the couch. Dirge was tense, touching carefully at the now swollen jaw.

“Did he break it?”

“No,” Ramjet hissed back, trying to push the caring hands away. “Fragger! He’s the worst and he totally started it!”

The black and white mech was trying to check for any more damage, shaking off the droplets of periwinkle blue energon that was now beading up from some sharp claw marks. Dirge angrily shook out his armor, sending seawater everywhere.

“You know better than to take one of his stupid little challenges to spark! Ramjet, you’ll get us into more trouble than we already have. Damn it,” Dirge groaned, about to say more when the heavy pedes of none other than Megatron could be heard at the open door.

“Would anyone like to explain?” he growled, not sounding pleased whatsoever. Three pairs of wings drooped all at the same time, Dirge cursing his luck once again.

An inside joke for the gods. He was sure of it now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron confronts Starscream, Skywarp tries to make things 'better,' and Dirge wishes he could somehow avoid the brewing drama.

Megatron strode into the room with a very dangerous energy, motioning Dirge back so he could look at Ramjet. The Seeker had some speckling of blue on his white plating, his clawed hands also sporting some of Skywarp’s energon. As Megatron glowered down at him the mech shrunk back, wings low in submission as he tried to hide his swollen jawline. 

“What is the meaning of this? I expect you to be controlled, not act like wild mechanimals when I turn my back!”

“Skywarp came in here and smacked me with his wing! I fought back ‘cause I’m not letting him get away with that,” Ramjet grumbled, rubbing the sore part of his faceplate. Still, he kept his head low and his posture weak. In no way was he interested in challenging Megatron.

The tank growled, the sound deep and displeased. 

“Such difficult, insufferable creatures…” Megatron grunted under his breath before motioning for Ramjet to stand up. “Come here.” 

Ramjet obeyed, trying not to let the quiver of fear in his wings show as he inched closer. He whined with fear when a strong, calloused hand was suddenly cupping his chin, turning his helm to the side to get a better look at the jaw. The tank rumbled, slightly softer this time. 

“I will speak to the other trine about this.”

Megatron released Ramjet’s chin and pet across the back of his coned helm. The Seeker looked shocked, blinking in surprise. Once he regained some sort of processor function he snuggled right up against Megatron with a soft purr like a grateful felinoid, making a very obvious and easily read ‘thank you’ gesture with his wings. He might be the mech most eager for a fight in the trine but he could certainly play innocent and sweet when it benefited him. 

Dirge watched in shock as Megatron smirked, a hand moving to rub affectionately between wings.

“Starscream simply cannot live with himself, knowing he has been thoroughly replaced,” Megatron laughed, loving how this plan had worked out incredibly well for him. 

Now all he had to do was coax Starscream back and then he would make the trines behave themselves.The war effort would be smooth again and he would have a lovely flock of six. So long as he played his hand right. That was still to be determined, Megatron inwardly unsure if he could maneuver the chess pieces into the right order with how difficult all the new players were. 

“Rest. I will go deal with the wayward fools.”

With that said, Megatron gave Ramjet one more pat before he lumbered off to confront the Command Trine. Ramjet looked dazed at the fact he hadn’t been punished and beaten to within an inch of his life but instead almost rewarded for fighting. He looked at Dirge in shock, his trine leader appearing just as confused as the door closed and left them with free run of the warlord’s quarters. 

“Uh…that worked out better than I thought?” Ramjet offered stupidly as Dirge sat down tiredly in a plush reading chair.

“For the moment, until we have Starscream coming after us,” Dirge groaned, tossing his head back in dismay. “We have no choice but to ride out the madness and see where we end up in it. I knew this was going to be nothing but trouble when he first invited us to dinner.”

Thrust’s big yellow optics looked spooked, as he should be. He knew he would be the best, easiest target and that got him all sorts of nervous and on edge. He would have to watch his back for Skywarp and the others now. Attacking an Autobot was fun (until they got their guns loaded and firing back) but taking on another Decepticon? No thank you! Thrust would much rather stay well away from that sort of conflict. It always ended painfully and unlike Ramjet he didn’t like having aches or pains. 

He went to sit with Dirge, seeking comfort from him. Dirge purred soft reassurances that he would take care of things, soothing his cowardly mate as best he could. They had gotten into something but Dirge wasn’t sure how it would play out in the end. He just hoped it wouldn’t be a complete disaster.

—————

“Starscream. Your attempt at pestering the others was in poor taste.”

Megatron now stood looming over Starscream after having trapped the mech on his way to the rec room for rations. It had been perfect timing since the little menace was without his trine mates and could be scolded more easily. Starscream put on his most stubborn expression, gearing up for a battle of wits and wills. Also beatings. He was ready for that, too. He could so easily set the tank off he doubted he would come out of this unscathed. 

“Oh? I have no clue what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything to bother the other trine. I’m surprised you would make the effort of hunting me down—considering you’ve found some new playthings. I feel sorry for you, having to take second best and try to polish it into something of value.”

“Watch your mouth, Starscream,” Megatron warned darkly, rising to the insult. “I hope you know that the offer remains open for you and your trine. I was not the one to damage everything before, unless your little mind has forgotten?”

The two mechs were bristling, armor flared and their optics narrowed as they went to verbal war with one another. 

“I don’t want your petty handouts! I don’t need them and neither does my trine!” 

“Then why do you send Skywarp to torment the others in my quarters?! You’ve lost your ability to lie which I consider quite a shame! How else can you backstab and betray me if you can’t configure a plausible story!”

Starscream hissed, claws flexing. “You betrayed ME! You broke your promise!”

Megatron looked momentarily thrown off his game but recovered too quick for Starscream to hit the sore spot again.

“You are jealous. You can’t stand it, knowing you have lost to Dirge’s trine.”

“Of course I’m jealous that you’re fueling them and for some reason not sending the wretched Coneheads on any scouting missions! How dare you accuse me of being jealous over something anyone in this army would be furious about! Picking favorites gets you killed, oh mighty leader.”

“Is that a threat?!” 

Starscream tensed up to spring out of the way, an ominous hum of the tank’s main gun coming on. The fusion canon remained dormant but for how long it was unsure. 

“Shut up! You’re the one creating the problem here! I want my trine to be equally fed! That’s it!” Starscream screeched, vocalizer starting to get to the point of his classic yelling fits.

Megatron huffed a mirthless laugh. “This isn’t about fuel. Do you think I’m too stupid to figure that out?”

“Of course you’re stupid!”

“That is perfectly fine if you wish to think that way, Starscream. Just know that they will be getting more than you will, every day and every night," Megatron smirked, leaning down to glare optic to optic with Starscream. “Until you can prove to me that you’re worthy of holding the position of Air Commander, you will be stripped of the title. Dirge will now be the new air leader and his trine will be in control. You will take orders from them until I deem you fit to lead again. As far as I can tell? You’ve lost your touch, Starscream.”

He moved back, so pleased to see Starscream both shocked and enraged at the news that his little attempt at creating more of a problem had indeed made one—for himself. Megatron turned and lumbered off, for once not followed by shouting. It looked like he had finally struck a chord, the brute also anticipating what may come next. 

Starscream would either fight for his position back or he would eventually come slinking back to grovel for the title. Or perhaps if he was at his best he would try an assassination attempt. Megatron knew it would be one of those three things, understanding the Prince of Vos so well by now. When emotionally driven he was foolish, but when he was allowed to think clearly? Oh, he was quite the clever little menace.

For now he would let Starscream mull over the turn of events and Megatron had some other Seekers to visit.

—————

“He…he took away the command and gave it to Dirge and his idiots!” Starscream howled when he returned to his room, Skywarp sulking for getting caught earlier and Thundercracker appearing to suffer from a headache.

“It’s not permanent, Star.”

“He said if I don’t make up with him it will be!” 

“I highly doubt he worded it like that, Starscream. He wants you back but he knows better than to force something like that. You did try to kill him when you broke up so it makes sense that he’s not exactly cuddly-”

“Because he deserved it for saying what he did!” Starscream looked distraught now rather than angry, both Thundercracker and Skywarp getting up to comfort him. 

The beautiful mech was overwhelmed, any semblance of a plan long gone from his head now. He brushed wings with his mates, whining softly as they communicated for a moment in wing speak. 

“Screamer, calm down. It’s fine, we’ll figure this out! We all know Megatron well soooo…how about we play him at his own game? Make him want us back so bad that he asks you the right way? Instead of putting it on us, we put it back on him!” Skywarp yipped, thinking that was the best plan yet. 

“And how would we do that when we’re under fueled?”

“We strike a deal with the gestalts. It’s super easy!” 

“What kind of a deal, Warp?” Thundercracker asked cautiously, not eager to owe the grounders anything. 

“I have my ways! Just let me work my magic and before you know it we’ll be getting fuel and start looking pretty again. We’ll knock the dumb Coneheads right out of the sky and Megatron will love us like he used to and apologize to Screamer. It’ll be perfect!”

“Very well. It only has a small chance of working but it’s worth a try,” Starscream huffed, still upset but trying to hide it now. “Don’t promise them anything we will regret. I loathe to owe anyone favors.”

“You guys have no faith! Don’t worry about it, I’ve got us covered! I may not even have to ask them if my other super secret plan works first~”

“I don’t even want to know, don’t tell me,” Starscream muttered, leaning against Thundercracker as if suddenly fatigued. “I need to take a nap so I’ll be in recharge and not responsible when you do something idiotic.”

“Pfff, it won’t be bad at all! Just you wait, we’ll be sitting pretty as the Command Trine again in no time and our seat will be right on Megatron’s lap. Trust me, Screamer, I’ve got this!” 

Skywarp was gone yet again, teleporting into some crazy scheme of his own making. The remaining Seekers sat down to groom each other, a self comforting gesture that eased stress. Thundercracker and Starscream both knew Skywarp would do something crazy but once in a while his little plots worked. It was dumb luck when they did but they were willing to let him try. 

————

“Hi Astrotrain! How are things? Looking uh…morose and bummed out like usual.”

“The ‘frag are you doing here?!” Astrotrain yelped, shoving the data pad with some very lewd photos on it under a pillow before Skywarp noticed. He also sat up so quickly in the bunk that he smacked his yellow head crest against Octane’s berth above his. Hissing he rubbed at the sore spot, turning his garnet optics to Skywarp. “What do you want? Also don’t teleport in here unless you com first, stupid.”

“I need a favor.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Everybody always asks me for stuff but I get nothing back! I’m not doing anything unless you offer me something good up front.”

An annoyed shuttle wing flicked to say he was barely listening now. 

“Astro! Buddy! I just need some energon from the next raid you’re going on. The one with the Combaticons. Steal some extra for the trine, okay? We really need it and I’ll pay you right here, right now, with something you’ll be happy to have.”

Astrotrain looked deadpan, completely disinterested. 

“No thanks, I don’t want to put my protoflesh on the line for you. Not after what happened last time I tried to ‘do you a favor’ and I got my wing crushed for it.”

“Not my fault you can’t see where you’re going.”

The shuttle-former glared and looked away. 

“I was having a nice time by myself. Frag off, Skywarp.”

“Wanna know what I’ll give you?”

“Not really, no.”

Skywarp pretended he hadn’t heard that.

“It would be a whole night with me! Just us. Doing whatever you want to do. We can go flying, fragging, watch the stars, whatever things you like. Just us. Together. Having a great time. And I’ll be happy to show you good will by hanging out with you now!”

The purple and gray mech made a low sound of either pain, annoyance, or possibly intrigue. It was very hard to tell. 

“Nah, I’m good. I got my own hand for fragging, I can fly on my own, I’ve seen the stars a million times, and I don’t need a friend or whatever you’re trying to play as,” Astrotrain replied, shrugging. “Can you leave now?”

“Isn’t there something you like doing?” Skywarp asked, shoulder slumping a bit. The triple changer grumbled, although it wasn’t really words but some kind of growl-chuff instead. 

“I do things alone, Skywarp.”

Astrotrain was definitely not opposed to being around Skywarp, but he knew the guy would just find a way to use it against him later. Astrotrain always took the brunt of jokes and he was sick of it. If he just ignored everyone except the other triple changers he did okay, or at least he didn’t have to hear what everyone said about him. He waited for Skywarp to go away, confused when the Seeker sat right down on the bunk and gave him puppy optics. 

“But I can tell you’re lonely.”

Astrotrain frowned. 

“Can you frag off? Just a little it?”

Skywarp just snuggled closer like a needy felinoid, getting right into Astrotrain’s lap with a sweet purr-trill. The triple changer gawked at the black and purple mech, leaning back in total surprise. Well he hadn’t expected Skywarp to be that forward about it. Or that determined. 

“Listen, I don’t want to owe you for slag so-”

“Just a few cubes of energon. That’s it.”

Astrotrain shook himself to rid himself of the heat creeping up in his frame already. “See, this is what I want to avoid! You come here when you want favors, not because you’re actually trying to court or flirt or…whatever it is you Seekers do. I’m not gonna be anyone’s fling just for some energon. So back off.”

Skywarp gave him the puppy optics again, wings drooping. “I wouldn’t offer this kind of stuff if I wasn’t interested. I don’t go rolling around with just anyone, even though us Seekers have a reputation.”

“I have Blitzwing and Octane. They’re…fine.”

“Don’t you want more than fine?”

The triple changer looked pained rather than eager. He knew this was a trap of some kind or just a little Skywarp game, nothing more. It was both insulting and terribly appealing. He wanted the Seeker, (who wouldn’t?) but he knew it was going to be for one moment and then Skywarp would be gone. He couldn't trust that the prankster amongst their fighting force meant anything he said.

“I’ll get you the stupid energon. Now go away, I don’t want anything from you in return.” 

Skywarp just nestled cutely against his chest, purring. Astrotrain somehow found the willpower in himself to pick Skywarp up under the arms and dump him unceremoniously onto the floor. The Seeker yelped at suddenly being shoved off the berth and his nice warm seat, giving Astrotrain such a sad little look. The shuttle-former snarled back. 

“I said I’d get you the energon! I can’t trust you with any favors so…so that’s it. You get what you want and if you leave, I get what I want. Okay?”

Skywarp now just looked so crestfallen, picking himself up off the floor and ruffling his armor to shake off the embarrassment. Astrotrain tried his best to keep up the mean glare, hoping that it would scare Skywarp off. If it didn’t, he knew one more attempt by the handsome Seeker would have all resolve breaking down.

“If I apologize really well for upsetting you can I stay? For a little bit?”

The mech looked sheepish, almost shy if Astrotrain could believe it. Those aerials were way too appealing, their powers of simply being desirable on all fronts too strong for any normal mech or femme to resist. Astrotrain swore they all had some Outlier ability just on a basis of being a Seeker type. How could everyone love them even when they were complete aftholes?! 

“Fine.”

“I’m sorry I just show up when I want stuff from you. I know it must suck, feeling like I only have interest in you on those exact moments. But I do come to you because I like how you’re not full of slag and you’re reliable! You’re not a Seeker but you’re still good looking. I mean, I really wouldn’t offer to bed anyone I didn’t like.”

Astrotrain huffed, deciding that was probably the best 'apology' he’d ever get from that mech. 

“You also gotta promise you won’t make this into some joke or prank or whatever. That’s all I want.”

“Deal!” 

The triple changer had his arms full of Seeker after that, rumbling quietly as he got nuzzled all over his faceplate and neck by an eager jet. This was…wow. Not what he had expected. A big arm wrapped around a sleek waist while his other hand went to pet across the side of a wing, gentle despite his larger size. Neither one said anything more, not for the time being anyway. 

It was a half hour before Skywarp bumped cheeks with Astrotrain and nestled even closer if that was possible. 

“It’s not going to be a prank or a trick, promise.”

“Don't make promises you can't keep, Skywarp."

Astrotrain had no faith that this would last or be anything more than a clever way for the Seeker to get what he wanted.

“You know what? I’m also going to get you some glasses like TC has. So you can see things better.”

“No, you aren’t going to do that because if Megatron finds out I have bad vision I’ll be gotten rid of. Skywarp, I’m only here because he needs a shuttle for everyone. That’s it. If the taxi can’t see well and he finds out? That’s game over for me. I need a lot of energon, I need a big area to recharge. I can’t afford to drag the army down for even a second. Not unless I want to get taken out back and uh…well, shot. So if you want me around don’t say anything.” 

Skywarp nodded, clawed hands gently working a rock out from between a side seam. Astrotrain rumbled a warning, not sure what the imp was up to. 

“You don’t let anyone groom you?”

“Would you want Blitzwing or Octane pawing all over you?”

“Fair. So can I groom you? Or are you going to puff up and growl at me the whole time?” 

“You can if it doesn’t hurt.”

Astrotrain was a little suspicious, but he was going to try this. Skywarp seemed happy about it, pushing him down into the cot and making him roll onto his side. Then those agile digits got to work ridding the big mech of all sorts of debris. Rocks, dust, shrapnel, even something tacky that might have been old gore. Who knew, but Skywarp was excited to take on the challenge of making Astrotrain feel a little better. Later that night he would make him feel a lot better, but first he needed to prove he was there in good faith. 

As far as Skywarp was concerned, he had gained two wins! More energon and a big triple changer. Sometimes plans really did work out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more smut and Soundwave trying to get everyone on track next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soundwave gets involved and tries to talk some sense into Megatron before the 'plan' does the opposite of what he wants. 
> 
> Thrust gets some lovin'~

“My face hurts.”

“If you didn’t jump into fights you wouldn’t be sore every other day,” Dirge growled back, now having to endure Ramjet’s fussy grumbles about his swollen jawline. “You’re lucky it isn’t broken.”

“Bicker outside of the berth,” Megatron snarled, the two Seekers scrambling to argue on the couch instead of tucked in against the pillows. Yes, there were many more of those now that the Seekers were involved. Megatron remembered how Starscream's trine had demanded them and it worked wonders on the Coneheads. 

The tank was tired from a long stretch of reading reports, already settled in for rest. Thrust was cuddled up next to him, the warlord rubbing between his shoulders in a surprisingly affectionate way. Thrust was not the smartest and he was easily startled, but he was a lovely submissive. Megatron couldn’t get enough of those happy purrs and trills.

“There. Now we can recharge,” Megatron chuckled deeply, hand sliding from Thrust’s shoulders to his chin, cupping his faceplate in a big, rough hand. Thrust softly crooned back. 

“I like the no bickering in the berth rule,” Thrust agreed, citrine optics glancing to where Ramjet and Dirge snapped at each other in hushed tones. 

"Recharge, my faithful Seeker. They will join us when they’re ready.”

Megatron settled down, stretching out stiff joints. Tanks were powerful but with that came weight, and with weight came stress on joints that was not pleasant over many thousands of years. The brute knew he was old every night when he lay down and grew achy and stiff. Time for a real medic to do replacements as was typically routine for tanks over the years-but he had no one on the team he trusted enough with such things. 

So he endured. 

“Do you think Skywarp will come in here at night and attack us?” Thrust asked, still on edge from earlier. 

Megatron huffed, shaking his head. “That would end quite poorly for him. He will not come here. Now rest, you skittish creature,” Megatron rumbled, continuing to pet along Thrust’s back to calm him. 

To some it might have been an insult, but his tone was affectionate. During moments like these Megatron felt like no one was going to use his gentleness against him later. It made him feel content. He remembered how he had once shared these moments with Orion. He missed him terribly. At least wounds like that healed over time and killing the husk of a mech Orion was now a mercy. The Matrix had warped his companion into someone else, this Optimus Prime. He had changed beyond what Megatron could understand or love, making the bitter warlord enraged that the world had taken yet one more thing from him. And now he had reclaimed a new collection of lovers and in no way would anyone ruin it for him. 

Starscream’s trine and the Coneheads were nothing like Orion but they were still wonderful companions in their own ways. Dirge was calm and could talk for hours about history, Thrust while often cowardly enjoyed flying more than anything else and had multiple mods for being ‘even better’ in the sky, and Ramjet liked to talk about his skills as a brawler in bars and that he used to go hunting in the Vosian mountains with his family before war broke out.

They were a funny little group but Megatron liked them. They were not treacherous, obeyed commands, and were of course wonderful to bed. Seekers were lovely and Megatron had found a perfect little trine worth snuggling up with. They kept their mouths shut, too, and didn’t go bragging about being the favored trine—at least not yet. It was much appreciated that they kept the berthroom exploits to themselves and their conversations with Megatron stayed amongst the group. He was glad that they weren’t huge gossips and from what he could tell. They had little interest in bringing the wrath of Starscream down upon them. 

For their average abilities in battle the mechs weren’t idiots when it came to keeping themselves alive.

“If you say so. I mean, you could always blast him with the fusion canon,” Thrust mumbled, settling down with the confirmation that no, he would not be attacked in his recharge. A few moments later Megatron had a maroon and gold mech curled up in the crook of one arm, venting deeply but not snoring.

Megatron may or may not have smiled. Then he got two more Seekers, Dirge and Ramjet finding spots to curl up with him. Dirge got nestled into his other arm and Ramjet seemed more than happy to drape himself over Megatron’s chest. The Seekers were all asleep in minutes, Ramjet the only one who snored out of the bunch. Megatron rumbled, dimming his optics. 

He liked this. A lot. 

-Soundwave! I believe I owe you thanks for this plan-

-Thanks: accepted. Plan: needs to be carefully executed- 

Soundwave actually sounded slightly amused if it were possible. 

-Megatron: has dealt with Starscream?- 

-Briefly. He knows where he stands but if he never controls himself, I don’t think I’ll mind. I have three others that have easily replaced him- 

-Seekers: require considerable affection. Starscream: no different from Coneheads. Plan: was not aimed to be obvious punishment- 

A low growl in reply followed. 

-He will get all the affection he could want if he would cease all attempts to damage the war effort and irritate me further. He is a menace!-

-Starscream: will assume you are plotting against him and his trine. Starscream: may react harshly upon feeling threatened-

-Of course he will. I offer him everything and he is suspicious of it! Then he becomes jealous as was expected and sends Skywarp to pester the new Command trine. I don’t know what I’ll do with him, with any of them, really-

For once Megatron had to admit, he was slightly out of his league with these Seeker politics. These creatures were complicated and coming from the mines and the gladiator pits, Megatron wasn’t exactly the most diplomatic, at least not anymore. He was sick of playing word games. Actions spoke much louder. 

Soundwave hummed. At least Megatron was trying to make things work in his own way. He was far from perfect and Starscream had some valid complaints, but he was only cruel to a point. Even warlords needed the basic comforts of companionship once in a while. Soundwave knew better than many how much Megatron craved it and how lonely he was. Nothing had worked out for him the way he had imagined, including the war. 

-Suggestion: keep close optic on Seeker trines. Infighting possible. Seekers: will become irate if finding out they are part of a game- 

-It has already started. So long as they don’t kill each other or rip wings off, it will be fine. They can establish their own pecking order like cyber-chickens- Megatron replied with a tired grunt. Seekers had such strange politics amongst themselves he really didn’t want to get involved. 

All he wanted to do was get Starscream back, along with his trine. Then he would have six beautiful creatures all to himself. 

-Megatron: consider apologizing to Starscream?- 

-For what?!- Megatron snarled back, engine snarling and waking up Ramjet. The mech looked spooked, wings pinning back under the covers since he assumed it was his doing. “Hush. Reports that I do not like to hear, Ramjet,” he assured, shifting a hand so he could pet the back of Ramjet’s neck in a comforting way. 

“You sure? My snoring and all-”

“Go back to recharge, my Seeker.”

Ramjet tucked back in against the tank, back to sleep a few moments later with the petting and the lack of aggression towards him. Megatron stroked a hand across one of the nearly pure white wings, feeling it tremble with interest and press into his palm even as Ramjet slept. 

Seekers…truly wonderful. 

-Megatron- Soundwave huffed, sounding truly annoyed now. They both knew what Megatron needed to apologize for saying but the brute was stubborn. Just as determined not to admit fault as Starscream was when he got into trouble. They were very alike, those two.

-I’m finished with this conversation- 

The com link died, Soundwave sitting back at his desk with a deep sigh. Well, he had tried. As the third in command and most loyal to Megatron of all the soldiers, he had a duty to make him succeed—even if Megatron didn’t always like the things he said. Ravage flicked an audial, nudging his helm into Soundwave’s hand as his tail flicked lazily off the desk. 

“Is he being troublesome?”

“Always,” Soundwave hummed, shaking his head. “There is nothing to be done for it. I cannot continue to act as the playground monitor.”

“He will figure things out. You do what you can. Now, how do the reports look?” Ravage asked, pawing one over to him so he could read about the raids the next day. “Not bad. I think we’ll come away with the supplies we need.”

Soundwave nodded, although he was stressed. They were terribly low on fuel and needed whatever they could get.

“There are always the metal plants of the humans,” Ravage offered, cocking his head.

“Yes, those will be next. I would rather we steal all we can from the Autobots first as it will hurt their war effort. This must end. Megatron has been pushed to the brink and then some,” Soundwave replied, his typical monotone voice gone. In the privacy of his quarters among his cassettes, there was no need to be an unfeeling soldier. 

Ravage nodded. “True. The more we wound them the quicker this ends.”

“It will come to a conclusion, but whether we like the ending or not is another story.”

Soundwave bent back over the report for the coming raid, making sure everything was as perfect as possible. 

“He’s going to lose everything if he isn’t careful. The cost will be great,” Ravage warned, sensing the energy field from Soundwave. The blue and white mech was tense as could be.

“I know. Then again, this war has cost every one of us already. We all suffer through it. I do what I can to serve Megatron but I can’t protect him from himself. Not if he chooses to ignore the meaning behind the things I tell him. He’s already making a mess of the aerials.”

Soundwave pulled back his face mask, reaching for a chalice of high grade. Ravage purr-growled. 

“Then we must make sure that doesn’t happen.”

————

The next morning Megatron woke to being groomed. He stretched, armor fluffing to reveal scarred protoflesh beneath. It allowed those talon-like Seeker claws to reach any remaining grit or dirt, although by now Megatron was sure the Coneheads had preened absolutely all traces of dirt away. 

“Aaah, good morning Thrust.”

“Hi~” Thrust purred back, citrine yellow optics bright as could be. “The other two went to fly. I was thinking maybe we could do some other stuff?”

Thrust was cowardly with battle, but when he wanted something like a frag he was quite forward and usually able to get his way. Of course Megatron wouldn’t say no, not to such a lovely creature like that. Sometimes Megatron wondered how anyone would actively want him as this older, tired warrior, but he wouldn’t question it. Calloused hands moved along Thrust’s sides and came to rest on shapely Seeker hips, the pad of his thumb rubbing between a seam there. Thrust quivered with longing, now sliding to straddle Megatron’s lower middle. The tank chuckled at the display. 

“It’s looking to be quite the good morning, hmm?” he rumbled, voice husky as he eyed Thrust’s frame.

The Seeker put on a show, armor fluffing just so as he angled for the light to hit perfectly on his chest and hip armor. 

“You are an arrogant little bastard and I adore it.”

Thrust grinned, puffed up with pride. “You want me to do some crazy stuff? I’m real flexible, more than Dirge or Ramjet.”

“Oh really?” 

“You bet! Wanna try a different position today? Something like—”

Thrust squeaked (yes, squeaked) when he was suddenly flipped around so he was the one on the bottom, Megatron’s speed and power once again surprising him. The maroon and black Seeker grinned sheepishly as if to pretend he hadn’t been totally taken off guard. Megatron smirked back at him, knowing exactly what Thrust was thinking.

“I have an idea for you,” he rumbled, nipping lightly at Thrust’s jawline and neck. 

Thrust shuddered, mewling with need already. His panel snapped back and he wriggled his hips. “I’m ready, just…nnngg do something.”

“Nuh-uh, you ask nicely. Dirge mentioned you have a habit of being demanding when you’re in no position to be,” Megatron chuckled, manhandling Thrust onto his side and taking hold of one of his legs. He lifted it up, the Seeker whining with need as his valve became totally open and exposed. “Use your manners, Thrust.”

“P-Please! Please please please I need your spike!” Thrust blabbered, Megatron’s other arm wrapping around his waist to anchor him close for what was coming next. 

“Good mech.”

The tank smiled, the expression unseen thanks to Thrust’s back being pressed up against his chest. His hips rolled, his already stiff spike nudging between valve folds. Thrust squirmed, claws hooking the berth covers as he tried to angle his hips for an easier entrance. Megatron had to guide his spike so he didn’t push on anything the wrong way. Once he felt himself sliding into that wonderful, tight heat, he groaned deeply and hugged Thrust’s leg with one arm. Thrust was already trilling and begging for more, the mech panting as his valve became fully stuffed with the thick breeding organ. His thighs quivered. It felt so fragging good…

“Unnnnnhgggf,” he moaned when finally Megatron gave a little thrust to fully seat himself, their frame sitting flush to one another. 

“I’m not going to go easy on you," Megatron growled, mouthing at the Seeker's neck.

“Good,” Thrust groaned back, so ready for a good, rough frag. “You were gentle last time so you owe me.”

Megatron actually barked out a laugh. “Well, in that case!” 

The next thing Thrust knew, he was getting fragged so hard into the berth he almost couldn’t make any noise because it was so intense and amazing. He was wailing with need, feeling that glorious spike jam up against node clusters that were normally hard to reach in a typical position. But with being on his side with a leg raised up, that glorious spike found lots of new node clusters to bludgeon against. Thrust was a shaking, trilling, moaning mess, getting so loud that Megatron shoved two digits into his mouth to hush him. The Seeker made a little ‘mhhnnff’ sound and started to lick and suck at Megatron’s servos, panting and crying in between muffled, wet sounds. Megatron growled thunderously, rutting the beautiful Seeker all the harder. 

“Beg me for an overload, Thrust. I’ll have you trained even better than Dirge,” Megatron chuckled, suddenly stopping the punishing pace and holding himself hilt-deep in his partner. His fingers also moved from the other mech’s mouth, feeling Thrust shudder, then let out a wail of need. 

“Please Megatron! Just one overload, that’s all I need! I…oh frag, move. Please move!” Thrust groaned, trying his best to be good and ask nicely, but his processor was taking a few moments to figure out that Megatron was just…going to stop until he said the right things. 

Megatron hummed in thought. He had the willpower to hold out. Thrust on the other hand? He would beg instantly.

“A little more than that, Thrust. Tell me what you want me to do with you, my Seeker.”

The warlord’s hand rubbed in mock affection at the leg he was holding up, Thrust whining. 

“I want you to frag me really hard, like you just were because it was perfect! So perfect! I…please? I need you, I want you, I…oh frag, I need to get off, Megatron. You’re the only one who can fix it,” Thrust pleaded, hoping the little compliments would work. 

To his relief there was a happy rumble-purr from behind him, the Seeker feeling the vibration of it through his frame. 

“Good mech. That’s all I needed to hear,” Megatron chuckled, smirking behind the aerial as he started up that punishing pace once again. Thrust gasped clawed hands fisting the mesh sheets as he felt overload building up. 

“Can…can….hnnnggg….M-Megatron, can I overload?”

“Asking permission! You really are learning,” Megatron snarled with lust, getting even more aggressive with his thrusts. “You may overload.”

Thrust finished hard he almost blacked out for a moment in reboot, his valve constricting like a vice around the tank’s spike as his own lubricant pushed out around the thick shaft. Megatron had no way to control himself now with the fierce, almost painful tightness around his girth, following the overload and knotting them firmly in place. 

The maroon and black Seeker panted hard, a secondary overload coursing through him as the knot stretched him wide, hitting all the sensors near his valve rim and trapping the hot, sticky transfluid within his valve canal. He felt Megatron slowly lower his leg, the knot shifting within him as his limb was moved. It was heavenly, the feeling of being so stuffed full he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. 

“Very good, Thrust. You are wonderful,” Megatron sighed, finally able to speak after riding out an amazing overload himself. His limbs felt heavy and warm, his sides heaving as he used all his vents to take in cooler air. He pet along Thrust’s sleek side and then his hip, wondering how this one would do Carrying. He had always imagined Starscream being the one to offer him a heir but perhaps this sweet submissive was more worthy of such a thing. Thrust didn’t know what Megatron was thinking but he reacted well to the touches, purring quietly as a hand lightly brushed his lower middle as if in promise.

Thrust wouldn’t say no. To be fragged all the time, needing transfluid to build the newspark’s frame and have a spark merge? He would certainly not reject that kind of offer. He leaned back against Megatron’s chest, wings fluttering. 

“Would you…consider…maybe, I don’t know…tying me up next time? I like that stuff,” Thrust asked cautiously, hoping he wouldn’t hear an immediate ‘absolutely not’ from the warlord. 

Relief flooded his lines when instead he twisted his head back to find a cheek nuzzling into his and light mouthing start along the side of his throat. Megatron was rumble-purring much louder now, shifting ever-so-slightly so that he pushed his knot deeper into the stretched valve. Thrust moaned, the sound hushed by a quick but promising kiss. 

“Shhh…” Megatron growled, patting a hip. “If that’s what you need, I am more than happy to tie you down and have my way with you.”

Thrust shuddered, nodding eagerly. “Yes, please!”

Megatron chuckled, curling protectively around his winged minx. Oh yes, he would make sure Thrust was happy--that all of the Seekers he had chosen were happy. With luck he would be joined by another three, but if not he knew he could still rest easy. He had the best trine with him already and if Starscream wanted to play nice? The offer was open. 

As far as Megatron was concerned, there was no way Starscream wouldn’t want to come back. He knew the mech missed these type of mornings, where they would wake and frag each other into rest again, but it was all up to the Seeker’s pride. Was he willing to grovel for his position back or would he be stubborn for another thousand years? Time would tell. Megatron truly did want his intelligent, fiery Seeker to return someday to his side. 

Thrust was well behaved until the knot was small enough for them to pull apart, Megatron quick to clean up his companion before he rose from the berth and stretched. Time to wash off. Thrust was happily rolling over into the blankets to recharge again, a few happy wing flicks offered before he zoned out in a light after-overload doze. 

Megatron smirked a bit. Thrust was the easiest to please, that was for sure. Rest, good fuel, a comfortable berth, a hard frag here or there, and some grooming were the key to that one’s spark. No wonder Dirge said he had a much easier job handling the trine than an army. 

These Seekers were not of the same breed as Starscream. They were not as beautiful, but they were more agreeable. That was swiftly becoming a quality the warlord was not willing to give up. If Starscream couldn’t behave himself and play by Megatron’s rules? The tank didn’t see why he had to put up with him whatsoever. 

He took a quick rinse in his private wash racks to be presentable, then he went striding heavily out of the room to finish planning for the energon raid that evening. No good leader sat back and watched as his soldiers worked.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The raid for energon begins, Seekers fight, Megatron finds himself dealing with a lot more than he expected with his 'plan.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some angst is approaching! I promise things will go well...eventually. Anyway, enjoy the chapter. More is soon to come!

“Remember the deal, buddy?”

“Shut up, you’re going to get Soundwave looking at us for talking,” Astrotrain snapped back as Skywarp snuggled up against him. The triple changer sidestepped to avoid the public display of affection lest it get them into hot oil. 

How did Skywarp act like this all the time and not get punished?! 

“Soooo…you’re going to-”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going to do what you want. SHUT. UP.”

Astrotrain was tense. He hated when he was the getaway shuttle. He would have to pick up all the grounders who couldn’t run back when the raid was done and he could already feel the sting and bite of the bullets getting between his armor. It was awful. He was so sick of the whole ‘be the taxi’ gig but there was no way he could say no. Not unless he wanted to off himself. 

Which he didn’t. Soundwave was skilled, though, and he would make sure the ground units did what was needed. The Command Trine-well, former-Command Trine would be a whole different story. Blitzwing was chomping at the bit to do something and ‘rip someone apart,’ the tank coding getting him all riled up for battle. Soundwave had wanted him on the ground today so this was what he got. An overexcited, battle-obsessed killer. 

That was surely the plan but Blitzwing was often hard to reign in after the fight ended if he got too lost in the tank coding. Tanks were wild. Megatron was proof of how crazy they could get! Astrotrain just wanted to go to the small semblance of ‘home’ he had. Fighting was dumb, they were all just going to get hurt and be miserable…

“See ya soon, Astro!”

Skywarp teleported with a pop, gone off to the air where he joined his mates. Astrotrain looked dismayed as the command to move out was given. Off they went to discover whatever horrible pain they could find! 

————

In the air there was far more tension. The two raiding parties were going to converge into one at the last moment, trapping the Autobot supply location in a vice. If Megatron had planned correctly, the Autobots would be overwhelmed and either die or surrender quickly.

“His plan is idiotic,” Starscream hissed, hovering in the air and feeling at half-best. He could see the ‘Command Trine’ in the distance, Thrust’s maroon plating catching the light from the dying sun as it sank below the ocean horizon. “I hate them. Look at how polished they are before a battle! Stupid! They’re going to ruin it in a matter of seconds!”

“Star, keep the focus,” Thundercracker rumbled, deep voice soothing. “We’ll show what we can do and once Warp gets the extra energon, we’ll catch right up to how they look. Just takes some polish and fuel.”

He was trying to keep Starscream from having a tantrum in their air when they could do absolutely nothing about Dirge’s trine. Their presence was at least separate enough that it should be okay…

“Skywarp, I want you to make them look as idiotic as possible. Do whatever you can to absolutely destroy their chances of impressing Megatron any further. I want them out of the picture and then I can deal with the old fool on my own without his new favorite pets getting in the way,” Starscream ordered, Thundercracker’s wings managing to pin back in alarm even in the air. 

“Starscream, no! Not during a raid, it could get them-or us-killed! And if Megatron finds out what you were doing…”

“Then he will have no choice but to give me command back and then he and I will have a little chat. If he wants me and our trine back so badly, he has to rid himself of those hideous reject models!”

“Star!” 

It was too late. Starscream was already flying off, the command to begin the attack given over com systems. Thundercracker desperately tried to catch up, feeling the weight of dread settled across his spark and energon tank. Skywarp was going to do something bad and so was Starscream. It was going to get so ugly, so fast. 

Thundercracker almost sent a message to warn Soundwave since he was less…emotionally driven…than Megatron, but he held back. He would try to control the trine himself and only as a last resort would he call in the third in command to stop them from destroying themselves. 

————

-Be at your best tonight, mechs. We have to impress- Dirge commed to his mates, his strange Outlier ability blooming with pride at his new position, his new status, his renewed interest in the fight. They had something to prove now. 

-Got it!- 

-We’ll send the stupid Autobots packing!- Ramjet promised, eager for more fuel and for lots of praise when they got back to the warlord’s chambers.

They knew they were on full display for the tank tonight, so they were trying more than usual. Even Thrust was doing what he could to not panic and throw himself off. So far things were working smoothly. The ground units were approaching at the correct direction, the orders were clear for where the aerials were supposed to strafe, and hopefully all would fall into place without a hitch. 

Thrust and Ramjet flanked Dirge as they swooped down for their first strafe of the Autobot supply base. They held formation nicely, Dirge even giving Megatron’s ground forces a wing waggle in a ‘we’ve got your back’ sort of gesture. Megatron could see them now and if he was watching, he would certainly be proud! 

As they pulled back up from the attack for their next strike, something went wrong. Thrust suddenly veered to the left, desperate to move before he hit something that suddenly appeared in his vision. 

-Thrust, what’s happening?- Dirge demanded, watching as his trine mate returned to formation after looking quite shaken. 

-Something was right there! Like a bird or flak or something! I was just about to hit it but it’s gone, we’re good- 

So Thrust thought. 

There was another pop sound and then something slammed into his wing. Thrust let out a sound between a cry and a Seeker keen of fear when his left wing erupted in pain. He wobbled only for a minute before he started losing altitude. Dirge and Ramjet hadn’t seen what hit him, although it was obviously serious as their mate’s side of the bond slammed shut to prevent any of the shared pain from crossing over. 

-Thrust, what hit you?!- 

-I don’t know but I can’t fly! My wing…it hurts so bad, Dirge!-

-Ramjet, stay close. Thrust, head back to the base if you can- 

-I won’t make it, I can’t move my wing. I’m going to coast down- 

Thrust was panicked but he tried not to lose control while in the air. That was the worst thing that could happen as it would lead to a more violent crash. Right now he could limp down to the ground and hitch a ride with Astrotrain back to the base. Then he’d need to get his wing fixed…

-Ramjet, keep strafing so the ground forces don’t get a chance to get in. Call Octane for support. I’m going to make sure Thrust lands well- 

-You got it, boss-

Ramjet was veering off to the air again, making sure to rain hellfire down on the stupid Autobots. He was sure whatever had hit Thrust was their doing and he was intent on making them pay! Soon Octane had joined the air in the strafing effort, although not without a snarky comment about the ‘Command Trine not able to hold their own.’ 

Meanwhile, Dirge and Thrust landed in the forested area around the Autobot supply dump. The blue and gold Seeker was quick to help Thrust up when his mate clumsily landed and tumbled, getting covered in organic mess but mostly unharmed from the poor landing. It was his wing that was the issue. 

“Let me see it,” Dirge demanded, fussing over Thrust while the maroon and black Seeker whined and keened. 

The wing was bent, as if someone had kicked it mid-air. Dirge had no idea what kind of weapon could do that without ripping through the armor plate, so he was very concerned. Ushering Thrust towards their forces, he was horrified to realize that they had landed behind enemy lines. If they didn’t do this right they would be in serious trouble. 

“Hush. If you get loud we’ll be spotted,” he hissed, pulling Thrust along through the brush as they tried to make their escape. He could hear the fighting ahead and knew the Autobots were trying to put up resistance to the sudden attack. Thankfully on the most recent battle report the enemy was losing ground and soldiers, so as of right then the Decepticons were winning.

“We can’t get through the grounders…”

“We can and we will! I told you to be quiet,” Dirge insisted, a little short with his companion because he knew this had to be done right. There were no second chances if something went poorly. “Follow me. We’re going to have to kill a few of them and make a run for it.”

“O-Okay.”

Dirge of course took the lead, practically dragging his wounded mate behind him as they made to break through the Autobot line. Thankfully them coming from behind was a good surprise, taking two of the Autobots down with null rays almost instantly. Dirge shoved Thrust ahead, trying to get him to their side fo the field where they’d have cover fire. 

“Go go go!” he barked, knowing damn well there would be an attack of opportunity coming. He fanned out his wings despite his instincts telling him not to, determined to protect his downed mate above all else. Thrust stumbled but then he was sprinting as best a Seeker on the ground could, those thruster-heel pedes not at all meant for running. 

“What the hell are you doing over there?!” Onslaught roared, beckoning for the idiot Seekers to come to where he was easily holding back the Autobots.

Dirge didn’t answer, just forcing Thrust along as the bullets and laser fire began. Only through many years of training did Dirge not scream when he felt his wings and back become peppered with fire. The bullets bit through thinner armor, lodging firmly in protoflesh and muscle cabling. They were so close to the Decepticon forces…The blue and gold Seeker finally screeched at his right leg suddenly buckled with a white-hot flash of pain, sending him right to the ground. His talon-like claws hooked fiercely into the ground as he tried to push himself back up onto his pedes only for his leg to protest in agony at the idea. Dirge looked down and saw his knee was a bloody mess, a rush of nausea coming over him. This was bad…

“Gotcha, Dirgie!” Vortex’s voice yipped, the helicopter suddenly landing over him and making quite a show of firing at the Autobots. Dirge wheezed a thank you, watching as Onslaught’s team surged forward with Brawl and Onslaught in the front absolutely tearing into Autobots. Now the enemy was scrambling to find shelter to shoot from on the other side of the embankment. 

“Can you drag yourself back?” 

“Yes.”

“Okie-dokie, see ya around! We got Autobots to kill and all,” Vortex whooped, the strange mech bounding off to join his buddies in the massacre. 

Dirge clawed his way back to the safety of their side of the field, pinging Astrotrain for evacuation. The triple changer replied that he was on the other side of the battlefield and that he would get there as soon as he could. That was not the answer Dirge wanted to hear, but once he got himself to relative safety he could start trying to wrap up his mangled leg. There would be no flying in that condition. He would not be able to transform with the leg so broken. 

“Sorry…this is all my fault, Dirge,” Thrust groaned, covering his faceplate with his hands. 

Dirge hissed softly. “It isn’t your fault something practically stepped on your wing mid-air.”

The battle raged on but after another forty minutes the Autobots were driven off. There simply weren’t enough of them to defend the place from a full assault. The ground units were quick to get into the supplies and raid them, getting as much as they could pack into subspaces and arms before retreating. Megatron seemed to be pleased, but then again Dirge didn’t know too much since they had been left behind as the raiding happened. More Autobots were coming to try and regain some of their supplies, so the call went up not long after that they were to retreat. Dirge pinged for Astrotrain again and felt a sudden feeling of dread in his tank when the triple changer said he had been ordered to return to the base with energon, not with passengers. 

-I’m totally packed with energon, Dirge. Want me to call Octane?- 

-Anyone. I can’t transform or walk. Thrust can't fly- 

Astrotrain wasn’t in the best shape either, but he felt bad about leaving aerials behind. Most of all the Coneheads. They weren’t that bad, even if they were getting special treatment. He pinged for Octane but of course the answer was ‘how much will you give me to go get them’ and the discussion ended there. 

“Big winged brat,” he muttered under his breath, trying to figure out someone else who could go collect the Seekers. 

Ramjet was already heading to their location but he wasn’t going to be able to carry anyone into the air like the triple changers could. 

Dirge finally had to ping Megatron. He hated to do it, but he knew they were in trouble. If the Autobots spotted them…

-Fine work, Dirge. You’ve done well! Meet me in my quarters with your trine for a feast-

-We’re wounded. I can’t walk or transform, Thrust has a damaged wing. Something hit him midair and now we’re both grounded- 

-Call for Spacebus to come get you! Dirge, you’re acting like a fool. You know who to call for aid-

-He’s unable to assist and so is Octane. Ramjet’s here but he can’t carry either of us back- 

There was silence on the other end of the com, then Megatron said he would ‘deal with it and send someone.’ Whatever that meant Dirge wasn’t sure, but the com shut down and he was left with a wounded mate and a very protective one. Ramjet was of course refusing to leave, huffing and hissing about how he’d fight any Autobots who tried to touch them. 

“You need to go, Ramjet. Get out of here or else you’ll end up wounded as well.”

“No, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Being stubborn gets mechs killed, Ramjet. Go. That’s an order,” Dirge snapped, watching as his mate got even more dug-in. 

“Nope, not leaving. You can court martial me or whatever.”

“Ramjet…fine. If you aren’t willing to do anything intelligent help us find a hiding place. Help me up, I’ll limp along. We’ll be fine until the Autobots lose interest in scouting the area.”

Ramjet immediately helped, grabbing his trine leader under the arm and hauling him up to his one good pede. Then they were off, trying to find shelter from the Autobot search parties soon to follow.

———

“What happened to your new Command Trine, Megatron? They’ve clearly abandoned the Cause—and only after one battle! You must be so disappointed,” Starscream sneered when he happily came to find Megatron in a furious mood and void of his little lap pets. “The Autobots will probably get them-”

“Silence!” 

Megatron roared, whipping around and locking Starscream into his sight. The Seeker didn’t even back up, so used to these little fits of rage. “I know you had something to do with this and if I don’t get them back, I’ll tear off your trine mates’ wings right in front of you as punishment!”

Starscream looked slightly less confident when that was the threat, but he still tried to act like he wasn’t bothered by that idea. Thundercracker and Skywarp both looked horrified but they prayed Megatron’s wrath would mostly be directed at someone other than themselves. They loved Star but he brought these things down upon himself…

“Oh, did I hit a sore nerve?’

“Open your mouth again to say one idiotic thing and I’ll break your jaw. Skywarp, you are going to pick up the others and bring them here. I want them back at the base. NOW.”

Skywarp made a shaky salute and a ‘Yessir!’ before he was gone with a pop. Time to go find the Coneheads and pretend he hadn’t been the one to mess Thrust up in the first place. Thundercracker took a step back, letting his trine leader do the talking. Whatever was about to happen might be ugly but it had to happen at some point. 

“You’re favoring them!” 

“Of course I am, they’re wonderful company!” Megatron spat right back, optics red fire as he glared at Starscream. “This could have been you and your trine but you throw my offers right back into my faceplate!” 

“You know why! You know why I’m not going to grovel at your pedes—because it was your fault! You said the things that made me hate you!” Starscream shrieked, his vocalizer fully at that ‘Starscream level’ everyone always tried to avoid. “I didn’t do anything but get upset, as would be expected! You’re the one who needs to apologize to ME!” 

Megatron looked affronted, armor flaring as he geared up for a verbal battle. “I don’t need you anymore. I still want you, there is no denying that, but I no longer need you.”

“I’ll let the Coneheads know they’re all just a part of your little game to get me back, then. I’ll ruin you. You will have nothing because you seem to think you deserve everything!” Starscream shouted back, wings pinned. “Apologize and the war between us is over. I’ll come right back to your berth with my trine and make you the happiest warlord this world has seen. But you’ll need to get rid of the Coneheads and you’ll need to apologize!”

“You’re not in a position to make bargains,” Megatron growled, tone full of warning. He did not like to be pushed! Starscream made a loud ‘pheh’ sound in response and tossed his head.. 

“Fine then. Live with nothing, because I will make sure that’s all you have.”Starscream went stalking away, collecting Thundercracker as he went. He could feel Megatron seething behind his back but he didn’t make optic contact again. Let the stupid brute chew on that for a while. Let him decide who he wanted the most. Because as far as Starscream was concerned? It couldn’t be both trines. 

-Skywarp, don’t find the other trine. Leave them. Say there were Autobots swarming the area- -Are you sure, Star? I found their signatures…--Entirely. Return here shortly and report to Megatron- 

-If you say so! I also need to talk to Astrotrain- 

-Very well, do what you must. I will be in the room with Thundercracker-

That was exactly what Skywarp did. He pretended to search for the other trine only to ‘find so many Autobots rescue just wasn’t possible’ and then he returned to the base. Megatron probably knew he was lying but didn’t say a word, dismissing him after he made the report. Skywarp could tell the warlord was struggling with many things, a somewhat haunted look in his optics if one knew him well enough. 

Skywarp didn’t say anything though, choosing to head to Astrotrain’s quarters to collect the energon he had struck a deal for.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Seekers have a lot to think about as things become more complicated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this upload took so long! Work and life have been keeping me pretty busy, but the story is not dead! I will post more soon :)

No one came. 

That was the worst feeling between the pain and the fear of Autobots stumbling upon them. The fact that Megatron hadn’t come or done anything when he said he would made Dirge feel a heavy weight in his tank of dread. They had disappointed the warlord and now they were being punished. That or Megatron had been convinced by Starscream to let him be the Air Commander again. 

No matter what way Dirge looked at it, they had been left behind and it hurt. More than he wanted to admit.

The whole time he had known deep down this was some kind of game, a sudden excitement that had taken Megatron’s interest for a short while. But now? It was over. They were tossed out just like Dirge had feared and now they weren’t anywhere safe. They were outside tucked into a little alcove in hopes that they could stay undetected until morning.

Ramjet was taking watch since Dirge was too exhausted from blood loss and the stress of trying to keep everyone safe. Thrust was curled up tight, trying not to think about his bent wing. It hurt terribly but despite what many would think of the maroon Seeker, the smallest of the trine was still pretty damn tough. He had been told no whimpering lest they be found so he was silently suffering as ordered. 

Search parties were coming out now, the trine hunkering down and cloaking their life signatures. They were sheltered in the shadows of the little cave they had found, but it was so easy to realize they’d be discovered if anyone came near. The rocks were gray and every single one of them was a bright, constrasting color that would stand out even in the dark of the alcove. 

None of them spoke. 

They just huddled together like eagles with broken wings and legs, tucking in against the night cold and the fear of discovery. Ramjet was doing his best to keep watch, but he was tired as well. It was hard to fight, worry about your trine mates, and stay awake all night. 

Dirge drifted off, floating in a place between consciousness and unconsciousness. He was about to fully go under when he felt Ramjet’s claws curl around his wrist and squeeze with alarm. Dirge slowly onlined his optics and saw the search lights approaching. They were much too close…

“Hands up! Where we can see them!” someone barked and then suddenly their little cave was lit up with multiple lights. Ramjet was hissing like a trapped wildcat, wings pinned as he tried to block his mates. 

Thrust was keening now in fear, trying to find a place to hide but there was none. He pressed to the back of the alcove, quivering while those huge citrine yellow optics stared at the lights. Dirge was mumbling for him to be calm and begging Ramjet to stand down. There was no fighting their way out of this. 

“It’s…the Coneheads?” someone asked, sounding very surprised. 

“Hands up!” 

“Ironhide, they’re harmless.” someone huffed, although who everyone else was Dirge couldn’t sort out. 

“They ain’t when they get them null rays goin’.”

A few of the bright lights turned off and then the Seekers could see who found them. Ironhide, Bluestreak, Hound, and Jazz. None of them looked out for blood (except Ironhide but that was normal for him). The others just looked surprised to have stumbled upon anyone, let alone one of the main trines. 

“You’re hurt?” Bluestreak asked, cautiously peering into the cave to get a better look at Thrust and Dirge’s condition. 

“No, we’re fine! Back off!” Ramjet snarled, all fluffed and puffed to be as scary as possible. Bluestreak didn’t look overly nervous by the display.

“Don’t fight. That’s not going to go well,” Hound said calmly, gesturing for Ramjet to come out of the little hiding place first. “We aren’t going to hurt you.”

“I’m not agreeing to the same terms,” Ramjet snarled back, ready to fight. He was still undamaged, just overtired and inwardly scared. “Go away.”

Jazz smirked in that way only he could, finding Ramjet’s fire to be pretty amusing. “Ain’t lookin’ for trouble, mech! Simmer down, let’s talk things out! We’re all reasonable guys!” 

Ramjet didn’t believe that, pressing further back into the cave to block his wounded trine mates from view. The Autobots seemed to silently determine something and then they made their move. Ramjet was suddenly blinded by a bright flash of search lights, the Seeker letting out a hiss as he tried to fend off the grabbing hands that now reached for him. 

Thankfully he didn’t activate nullrays, understanding that if he did, he might end up hitting his mates in the process. The struggle was indeed a brief one, ending with Ramjet and the rest of the trine cuffed and under control. Ironhide yanked Ramjet to his pedes while Bluestreak and Hound helped support Dirge and Thrust. 

“We’ll fix you up,” Hound offered gently when he saw how bad Dirge’s leg was. The Seeker proudly refused to answer, steeling himself for what he assumed would be a horrendous repair with no numbing agent. They wouldn’t waste that on the enemy. 

It felt like the world was caving in around him, Dirge watching as they were brought slowly back into the heart of the Autobot army. More of them appeared from the dark and soon the Seekers were surrounded and brought through a ground bridge tucked away in the back of the supply storage. 

The trine bond was bright with alarm and pain, Thrust’s side entirely doused in panic while Ramjet raged about being captured. Dirge’s Outlier ability was heavily shrouding those around him in pure despair and misery, Bluestreak and Hound both having to transfer him to another pair of Autobots when the feelings became too much.

“They have to be put in a cell together,” Hound piped up once the trine walked through the bridge and found themselves in the Ark. Thrust looked like a deer in the headlights while Ramjet was straining to be released from the unbreakable hold of the cuffs. 

“Why? This ain’t no party!” Ironhide growled back, more than eager to break up the trine and make them suffer for hurting and killing so many Autobots and friends in the past. 

Dirge didn’t even react to any of it, appearing very distant and lost in his own thoughts.

“Because if they’re in good shape we can trade for some of our friends back. I want to see Slingshot and Groove again.”

Ironhide made a face but he didn’t argue with that. 

“Fine. They go in a cell together. Once them two broken ones are fixed.”

Hound nodded, encouraging that Ramjet be taken to whatever cell Ironhide had in mind. The black and white Seeker battled him the entire way, digging in his heels and refusing to play nice for a second. They were a good pair, both mechs snarling and snapping at each other with no actual violence dished out. It was almost like they had to go through the motions of being angry and aggressive so that they could sleep better at night. Sometimes Bluestreak wondered if that were the case with people like them. 

Not everyone could be happy, that was for sure. 

“Alright, let’s get you to Ratchet!” 

Dirge said nothing. Thrust cowered. 

Bluestreak frowned but he led them along, having to help support Dirge as the blue and gold mech became more sluggish and clumsy. He was exhausted and weakened from the damage, not to mention mentally he was shutting everything else out. Bluestreak just barely got the Seekers to the med bay when Dirge collapsed and Thrust started panicking.

“What’s all the noise about? Primus!” Ratchet’s gruff voice shouted from the med bay, the red and white mech soon storming out to see what was going on. He looked annoyed to find Seekers, offering a deadpan question. “Why are they here?”

“Because they’re hurt!” Bluestreak insisted, currently trying to lift Dirge’s dead weight up off the floor. “He just went down and now Thrust’s lost it…”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Ratchet huffed, gestured for Blue to go away, and proceeded to heft Dirge up without trouble and pull the terrorized Thrust by the cuffs into the medbay. 

“I’ll com when I’m done.”

Ratchet got Dirge hooked up to an energon drip right away and bound the leg to prevent any further bleeding until he could work on him, needing to coax Thrust onto a cot. It was relatively easy, the medic gesturing and growling until it scared Thrust enough to obey. The Seeker pinned back his functional wing to his chest, staring in horror at the deadpan medic. 

“Can you sit here while I get your trine leader stabilized?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Sit, stay, and behave yourself.”

Ratchet was quick to work and didn’t make small talk. He put Dirge under and immediately began reconstructing the leg while Thrust stared. Ratchet had been talked about many times on their base, about how he was even meaner and scarier than Hook or Flatline. But he seemed gentle when he welded wires back together and stitched protoflesh. Not to mention he had actually put Dirge to sleep for the whole thing. 

It was…surprising. 

Thrust waited as he had been told, knowing trying to run was never going to work out. Not when he was literally in the middle of the Ark crawling with Autobots. The trine bond was still very upset but Dirge was calmed and Ramjet was taking comfort in the fact that he had kicked Ironhide hard enough in the knee to make him go limping and cursing back up the stairs from the brig.

Small victories. 

“Now for you. How did this happen to your wing? It looks like someone stepped on it,” Ratchet suddenly gruffed, coming around to the side of the cot where Thrust was hunkered down. The Seeker curled in on himself, trying to shy away. 

“I dunno.”

“I’m not here to interrogate you. I’m here to do my job. Knowing the details about injuries generally helps the patient. So—how did this happen?”

“I was flying and something hit me. I didn’t see what it was. It came from the air and just landed on my wing. It…it hurts.”

There was a flicker of empathy in the medic’s weathered faceplate, but it was gone moments later. He was not going to feel bad for these Seekers. They were the enemy and he knew the Decepticons sure didn’t treat prisoners the way he was treating the aerials. He shrugged, accepting that story for now. Still, as he looked at the wing he could swear he saw the imprint of a thruster pede heel in the sensitive metal…

“Flat on your chest.”

Thrust obeyed with a sad, scared whine. “Can you do it fast so it doesn’t hurt?”

Ratchet rolled his optics. 

“Are you a youngling or a soldier? I’m going to numb it, you idiot, just like someone numbed your processor.”

Thrust flinched each time he was touched even with a gentle hand, Ratchet having to condition him that a hand didn’t necessarily mean pain in order for the mech to stay still and allow for a quick pinch of numbing agent into the area. That got a shrill yelp and then pitiful, quivering wings. 

The medic got to work, careful to listen to any more sound of pain in case the agent didn’t reach all the nerve clusters. Thrust just stayed silent save for a few tiny keens for his mates. That did make Ratchet sad, having to listen to a Seeker crying for trine members who were either knocked unconscious or one who was in the brig already and couldn’t come. 

“Does anyone hurt you? Back at the base? Any enemies among yourselves?” Ratchet asked after a time, now almost certain the wing damage was inflicted from another Seeker. And there weren’t many others who could do the deed…

“No.”

“You can tell me. By oath I can’t tell Optimus or any of the others, you know.”

Silence.

“That’s fine.”

Ratchet shrugged it off. 

“Do you know what will happen to us? Dirge and Ramjet and I?” came a soft, nervous voice. 

Ratchet frowned, although the Seeker couldn’t see it from that angle. 

“I’m just the medic, kid.”

Ratchet finished up and soon both Seekers were being placed in the brig. They were scared but could take small comfort in the fact that they were back together again, the trio making a sad excuse for a nest with the meager bedding they had in the cell. It wasn’t comfortable but they were together which was honestly the best they could hope for being prisoners of war. The Autobots weren’t cruel and looking for way to get information easily. Not yet, anyway. All it would take was to break up the trine for long enough and it was sure to get at least one of them talking.

“You’re okay? He didn’t make things worse?” Ramjet murmured, trying to look over the repairs to the achy wing and Dirge’s wrapped leg. Dirge hissed quietly, pulling the limb away and out of reach. 

“Don’t tamper with it, he did a fine job. I wasn’t awake to know what he did.”

“He used numbing stuff?”

“Sedative, Ramjet.”

The black and white Seeker looked pensive at that, seeming to like that answer. Hook sure wouldn’t have used any of those supplies on a prisoner since they barely had enough for their own. 

“I bet they have a lot of stuff here, like a lot of supplies.”

“They have multiple scientists who can make synthetic options. As you know the Decepticons are generally the laboring class. We don’t have the same advantage of Nobles and high ranking medics or engineers--aside from the Constructicons. The Autobots have a stacked deck when it comes to minds, but we have brute strength.”

Dirge sighed, wishing there could have been a truce long, long ago. He was sick of the fighting, the hurting, the suffering. There were so few of them now…did this really have to continue? He had faith in Megatron for a long time, but being left to the wolves had stung. Were they not worth anything? Not even enough to send a search party for?

He had a lot to think about.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wanted Skywarp/Astrotrain smut you now have it lol

“Hiya, Astro!” 

The triple changer snarled in surprise as Skywarp suddenly teleported into the room with a pop, the shuttle-train throwing a blanket off of himself as he startled out of a nap. He glared daggers at the Seeker, chunky shuttle wings pinning back angrily. 

“Why do you keep doing that?! I told you to knock, idiot.”

“You have some energon for me, right?”

“Not a whole lot but enough for your trine. Here,” Astrotrain huffed, taking out a bunch of stolen cubes. He of course kept a quarter of the ‘Seeker stash’ for himself, more than happy to be at full fuel for the next handful of weeks. If he rationed it the stuff would last for a while. “Now you can go. I want to finish my nap before being stuck on patrol duty.”

“I’ll keep you nice and warm~” 

“Skywarp, you know what I said about not needing payment or whatever…”

Astrotrain was suspicious. All these ‘nice’ moments usually ended in him getting into trouble, being punished for something he didn’t do (or didn’t do on purpose), and then he would be miserable. No thanks! He was going to keep himself safe, even if Skywarp was pleasant to curl up with. It was hard to reject someone who wanted to get close. He didn’t exactly have a throng of suitors clamoring to get into his berth. It was pretty much just him doing his own thing. 

“But I do owe you! I made an offer and you accepted it eventually! Remember? I was going to be your best buddy!”

“I’m good. I would rather go back to my nap…”

“I’ll join you!”

“It’s a thing you do on your own, Skywarp—hey!” 

Astrotrain found his berth occupied by a black and purple Seeker a moment later, that pretty faceplate grinning at him like the imp he was. The triple changer wanted to scream out of frustration and longing. Why couldn’t he just trust this would go okay?! He wanted the stupid prankster and Skywarp knew that Astrotrain was touch and attention starved. 

“You need to loosen up, Astro.”

“You're a pain in the aft.”

Astrotrain had willpower but it broke down quickly as Skywarp snuggled in. Those beautiful wings tucked closer to his frame as he rested, half draped over a much bulkier chest. The gray and purple mech hesitantly pulled the single blanket over them and then let his big paw of a hand rest on Skywarp’s lower back, a thumb petting between the armor seams.

“See? I knew you could calm down,” Skywarp snickered, yawning cutely as the rubs were helping to soothe him as well. The relaxation was mutual. 

Astrotrain sighed. “You’re just gonna hurt me in the long run, but it’s nice while it lasts.”

The Seeker looked like that comment stung, but he just cuddled closer. 

“So…are you sure you just want to nap?”

“You got other plans?”

“I might, but they take two~”

Astrotrain growled softly, tilting his helm back in dismissal. “You’d never be able to take me. It’s kinda an issue, being as big as I am.”

“It isn’t an issue for someone as flexible and awesome as me! Let me show you what I can do, you won’t regret it!” 

The triple changer didn’t look convinced but he grunted a go ahead. Next thing he knew Skywarp was all over him and it got him roaring hot in minutes. The triple changer was shocked that the Seeker even knew where some good spots were, the careful, toying strokes between armor, the peppered kisses across his faceplate and chest. The shuttle-former was stunned, cooling fans running loudly as he lay back and got fully pampered.

“Let’s see how big we’re talkin’! Pop the panel, buddy.”

Astrotrain didn’t have the willpower left to even hold back for a second. His spike was already stiff and aching, the big mech sighing with some minor relief when the length was freed from its confines. Skywarp wolf whistled with interest, hands immediately wrapping around it and giving a few languid but firm strokes. Astrotrain’s hips lazily bucked into the attentions, a bead of pre fluid escaping from the slit. 

“You weren’t kidding! But I can take you.”

“It’s fine, just suck me off or something. Primus,” Astrotrain groaned, spike twitching with longing when those hands left it and Skywarp started to straddle him. 

Big red optics were even wider as the Seeker popped his panel back and revealed a very pretty (and small) valve. How this was going to work, the triple changer had no idea.“If I hurt you the trine will kill me…”

“I won’t hurt myself. Just stretch myself. And that’ll be fun for both of us!” Skywarp snorted, throwing away any concern from the larger mech. Astrotrain wasn’t going to argue further. He warned Skywarp and if the mech wanted to keep going—fine by him! 

“Don’t you want to warm up first?”

“Nope, it’s easier if I do things like this. Just let me do it,” Skywarp shot back, more dominant than Astrotrain would have expected. The triple changer didn’t mind, though, more than happy to let Skywarp have the control. 

Astrotrain let out a low groan when he felt the head of his spike become snugged inside hot, wet silicone and protoflesh. His helm tossed back and he forced his hips to remain still as Skywarp’s valve calipers slowly adjusted to his girth. Skywarp was lucky that Astrotrain was so well behaved and waited patiently, his venting heavy as he tried to stay calm and not buck. The urge to rut was so strong as his spike was slowly sheathed in that lovely heat. 

“Almost…” Skywarp mewled, a clawed hand on Astrotrain’s lower middle as he tested his valve’s stretch with a few little up and down motions. Astrotrain whined back, so eager for more movement.

He hadn’t even realized that Skywarp was actually handling the spike well. Sure, the Seeker was at max capacity but he had managed. Dripping with lubricant from arousal, all it took were those last shifts against the spike and the tight slit finally relaxed enough to take the base. It stung, but for Skywarp the intense pressure was amazing. 

“Wow,” Astrotrain panted, staring between them to see Skywarp’s groin almost flush to his. Puffy valve folds glimmered in the light with the sheen of lubricant and the glowing purple node tucked between the dark folds. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Thanks! You’re really big and I love it.”

Astrotrain knew he wouldn’t be able to last long, not with how things were going. As Skywarp started to ride him, the triple changer noticed how the Seeker’s lower middle was showing a bit from the spike pushing into him. That was incredibly hot, Astrotrain’s frame boiling with arousal. 

“How hard can I go?” he finally asked, noticing how their frames were now flush with each other as Skywarp worked. The valve was so tight but it also had some give even still, much more pliable than the shuttle-former would expect with it being so stuffed full. Skywarp made a soft moan. 

“Hard. I want to not walk tomorrow.”

“You won’t walk today, forget about tomorrow,” Astrotrain growled, rolling them over so he could now be the one on top. “You need to tell me a safe word.”

No hesitation:

“Starscream.”

“Eww, yeah, that would make anyone stop,” Astrotrain grumbled under his breath, but then he was starting to thrust. 

That got quite the sound out of Skywarp, the softer moans going into much louder cries for more. The Seeker was greedy, hands clawing at powerful shoulders to hold on as Astrotrain picked up the pace and the depth. Skywarp’s quivering thighs were parted wide as the bigger mech mated him with almost a possessive type of strength. 

He was chasing overload, eager to fill Skywarp up and remind him how good he could have it if he just didn’t hurt him later…

A few jerky thrusts and then Astrotrain lost control, one good shove inward soon followed by a rush of transfluid. Thankfully he didn’t knot the poor mech, doubting that Skywarp could take it. Still, he pumped the aerial full, Skywarp crying with bliss as he spilled over the edge as well at the rush of warmth and even more pressure as the transfluid had nowhere else to go. The gel wall remained unpunctured and the knot was outside the valve rim, so eventually their combined fluids dribbled out from around stretched folds.

Once he was done, Astrotrain pulled out and the majority of transfluid followed, the big mech slumping down to pant heavily in the berth. A heavy arm wrapped around Skywarp’s waist, pulling him closer. A sweet croon answered the gesture, Skywarp nuzzling against the bigger mech’s cheeks. Astrotrain returned all the affection, surprisingly receptive to all of it. Skywarp was limp, the weight of his limbs and the ache in his valve much too heavy for him to move on his own. 

So he let Astrotrain arrange him, the bigger mech just as tired but still able to move around. Skywarp soon found himself curled up as the little spoon, a stiff spike with the bulbous knot at the base tucked carefully into the crook of his thighs. It would be a bit until the knot would subside and be small enough to get tucked back behind the panel. Until then, Astrotrain didn’t have much of a choice what to do with it. 

“I’m taking that knot next time,” Skywarp mumbled, pressing his wet valve against the knot with a cheeky little smirk. Even now he still had some fire. Astrotrain groaned at the sensation, a hand coming to knead at a sleek hip. 

“Next time.”

A happy chuff and the triple changer was drifting off to that nap he so badly wanted, Skywarp snuggled into his arms the entire time. His alarm woke him for duty after another hour, Astrotrain grumbling at the incessant pinging. At least he wouldn’t be late. 

As he untangled himself from Skywarp, he felt those talon-like Seeker claws curl into his plating seams, trying to cling on and keep him there. A bleary optic onlined, giving Astrotrain the saddest little expression ever. The brute rumbled back. 

“I’ll be back in three hours. Just…try to rest. If you need something call your trine, I’ll leave it unlocked in case.”Astrotrain was now getting his spike back behind his panel, trying to rub off the sticky remains of their fluids and the handful of black transfers on his thighs. 

Skywarp almost sounded like he was keening, a sorrowful little aerial sound at the loss of the warmth and protection of a bigger mate.

“You better come back quick.”

“I will. What, you’re getting attached already?” Astrotrain snorted, shaking his head as he made to leave. “But yeah, I’ll come back early if I can.”

Skywarp grinned and announced that his new duty would be keeping the berth warm for Astrotrain until he returned. 

——————

-Where are you?!-

-Astrotrain’s room. Why?-

-You were supposed to bring the energon back here! Did you not get it?!- Starscream’s snappy voice demanded via com link.

-Oh, I got the energon. And a lot more. So I’m tired and he’s coming back soon for a round two with yours truly~-

-Disgusting! Uuhhck, you never cease to amaze me in the worst ways. You need to get tested for diseases before you get back into berth with either Thundercracker or I-

-Whatever, fine. You couldn’t hope to match his spike anyway-

-Skywarp! Teleport back here with the energon at least!-

-Come get it if you want it so bad-

Starscream looked like he was about to pass out from how angry he looked, dark faceplate growing darker every second. Thundercracker purred softly to pull him out of the mood. Amazingly it worked, Starscream briefly turning to regard the turquoise mech lounging on the berth.

“He romped with the wretched triple changer!”

Thundercracker curled a lip. “Eww. Did he at least do whatever the plan he had was?”

“Yes and now he wants me to come collect the energon! I don’t think so!” 

“Then we’ll wait, it’s not a big rush. The other trine is out of the way. By now they’ve probably been captured,” Thundercracker replied, still feeling a twinge of guilt for what they had done. For the record it had never been his plan! 

“I plan to meet with the idiot leader and see what deal we can work out.”

“Don’t go when you’re upset…”

“No, I won’t. But I need to speak with him soon. With those fools out of the way he’ll surely want us back and pamper us like we deserve!”

Thundercracker didn’t say anything, turning his gaze down to his clawed digits. He started to preen his arms, a nervous stress habit since there was absolutely not going to be a speck of dirt on them. Starscream pretended he didn’t notice the behavior, but the trine bond was aching on Thundercracker’s side. For a Decepticon he actually had a moral compass.

————

Megatron sent Ravage and Laserbeak to scout once he didn’t hear even a com from the Coneheads, sitting alone in the command room as he waited to hear a report. Laserbeak let him know she saw nothing and Ravage was still on the hunt. He had found an energon trail for the Seekers and was currently following it like a bloodhound.

-They were here in a small alcove, but there was a struggle. I believe they are currently with the enemy. I followed the trail after they were moved and it leads to the Autobot territory. I can investigate further but I am nearly certain they are held somewhere, likely the Ark- Ravage commed at last, the black panther currently crouched on a rock for better sight, looking out over the Autobot held grounds in front of him.

-Captured? I have heard no calls for a prisoner exchange!-

-They might not be sure what to do with them yet. Or they need them to talk. You know how these things go, my Lord- 

Megatron was silent, glad that no one was there to see how he gripped the table so hard his digits dug indents into the metal. The idea that the Autobots were torturing the trine was wretched, even for him to think about. He could imagine how terrified Thrust had to be, how defiant Ramjet would hold out for as long as possible, and how Dirge…how he would simply shut out the world. 

-I want them recovered and returned!- he snapped, a fist slamming into the table now. -Find out where they are exactly and I will send the best team to retrieve them!- 

A silence, then a sigh. 

-Yes, Lord Megatron-

Ravage leapt gracefully off the rock perch he had been using, slinking into enemy territory. He made sure to let Soundwave know what was happening, a ping to be careful sent immediately back. Ravage replied that he would pull back if there was too much danger, ready to find out whatever he could along the way.


	10. Chapter 10

“Everybody up! Yer gettin’ fed even though I don’t think ya’ll deserve none of it,” Ironhide barked, banging a fist against the cell wall. The Seekers startled like flustered birds, wings and limbs flailing as they tried to ready for a perceived attack. Ironhide glared as they scrambled, Dirge unable to get up so he was stuck on the uncomfortable cot.

“Could have just slid the rations though the light bars. Or are you Autobot’s too stupid to figure out the basics?” Ramjet shot back, angrily striding over to the buzzing light bars. They could melt plating in seconds, so the Seeker made sure not to touch them while making his little display. 

Ironhide sneered, folding his arms over his chest. “I ain’t dumb enough to be stuck in a prison cell. I’m doin’ a helluva lot better than ya’ll are.”

“The trine was grounded! It wasn’t our fault someone went after Thrust in the air!” Ramjet snarled, raging mad already. “Where’s the fuel so we can take it and you can leave?”

“Ain’t yer place to give me orders, Seeker.”

“I don’t care! Don’t give us the rations, then. Whatever!” 

The two were having a strange war of stubborn attrition over the rations, glaring each other down while Thrust retreated to Dirge’s side and squeezed onto the berth with him. His recovering wing was splinted, so all his wing speak was off with just one working correctly. Still, it was easy to see that he was cowed by the ferocity of Ramjet and Ironhide. 

He wanted all of the fighting to be over. It was not good to be a coward during a war…

“Shhh…settle down,” Dirge purred, nuzzling at Thrust’s helm to comfort him. “We’re fine. They wouldn’t repair us if they had bad intentions.”

“I hope you’re right…”

Ramjet managed to get two rations for his trine mates but Ironhide was withholding his own. He ended up flipping the armored van off before storming back to his mates. He handed each a cube and glared nastily over his shoulder at Ironhide’s smirking face.

“I’m not hungry anyway!” 

“Sure ya ain’t.”

Ironhide left, the Seekers quick to divide the rations they did have so each of them got something. It certainly wasn’t enough but they were in basically good health besides the new injuries thanks to Megatron’s favoritism. They could hold out for a while if this was how things would go. Not forever, but hopefully long enough for a prisoner exchange to be made. 

The trio returned to the floor where they could all nest together in the pitiful bundle of blankets, a few soft sounds exchanged in Seeker speak before they rested. It was the best way for them to ensure they recovered fast. They recharged for an unknown amount of time, none of them paying much mind to the hours as they passed. 

Amazingly none of them heard the light bars come down, not until someone cleared their throat. Panic followed the unknown voice, all three mechs trying to scatter but just getting tangled in the bedding and their own limbs. The Coneheads had never been top soldiers. Sleeping so deeply while in an enemy prison was just one display of how they were not ready for anything. Ratchet stood there, watching the trine attempt to flee. He immediately went to push Ramjet off Dirge, a sharp sound of pain coming from the leader as his leg was stepped on in the commotion. 

“Stop this nonsense! I’m not here to hurt anyone, just to change the bandages. Get off the floor and sit down somewhere.”

The orders were obeyed by Thrust, but Ramjet tried to defend his trine leader. He was immediately fended off with a wrench, hissing and spitting like an enraged felinoid as he was whacked after trying to claw into the medic’s arm. 

“Sit down!” 

Another whack had Ramjet retreating. It was amazing how the wrench could battle back pretty much everyone. That and the commanding personality. With a huff, Ratchet hauled Dirge up to one leg, trying to keep him steady. The Seeker looked pale, so the medic got him to sit down right away. A warning glare from the other two to keep back, and he was starting to undress the bandage. Dirge’s Outlier ability was fiercely defensive and also stressed, Ratchet having to take a deep vent to calm himself as he kept on the job. 

“You’ve done well to rest. It’s sore, but it’s healing,” he hummed, checking the limb while Dirge quietly sat there and didn’t once fuss or pull his leg back. “I’ll get you some painkillers.”

“It’s fine. I have no interest in owing anyone.”

“I’m not charging for it. I took an oath and I don’t care what brand you’re wearing.”

Dirge looked sullen. “We’ve been burned before.”

“No doubt,” Ratchet grunted, now starting to wrap the leg in new bandages. “Is it rough over there?”

“When hasn’t it been?”

“Fair.”

A pat on the hip to say he was done and Ratchet was standing up to see Thrust. He took a few deep vents now that he was out of the aura, almost like a mech held under water too long. Dirge’s projection was nearly suffocating. The Seeker was displaying how he felt; trapped, scared, hopeless. It was very intense to endure that feeling for long. 

Thrust was nervous as usual, but he didn’t flinch away when the medic checked his wing this time. He remembered how it hadn’t hurt the night before, so it probably wouldn’t be horrible now. Ratchet very carefully moved the wing, tilting it just enough to make sure the joint was healing correctly. 

So far it looked great.

“Keep this from bending, understood? No roughhousing, no recharging on it. It’s in good shape right now, so rest. Doctor’s orders.”

“Yessir.”

“Good mech. You have some sense in there,” Ratchet huffed, a little pat to the coned helm. Thrust didn’t flinch, instead he appeared too surprised to do anything. Had he just gotten a compliment from the enemy?!

“What about you? Any wounds or damage?” the red and white mech asked Ramjet, trying not to roll his optics at the snarly ways of the bully. Ramjet was fierce even for a Seeker. Usually they were such graceful and regal things, but this one was like some kind of street brawler. 

Ratchet didn’t care. So long as he could get the job done it didn’t matter what the personality was of the patient. 

“I’m fine!” came the snappy reply. Dirge sighed. 

“Tell him about the rust.”

Ramjet looked like a kicked puppy at being ratted out by his mate and trine leader, still shooting a glare at Ratchet. 

“Okay fine, I have a little rust spot.”

“Where is it?” Ratchet huffed, closing the distance to start checking. Ramjet amazingly didn’t lash out, thankfully smart enough not to strike at a medic. His wings were pinned to say he was uncomfortable with the close proximity, but everyone seemed to ignore the cue. 

“Kinda under one of the wings in the joint area.”

“And how long have you had this?”

“Uh…”

“He’s had it for months,” Dirge supplied, ready to get his trine mate all fixed up. Might as well take advantage of the medic’s willingness to help. “After some damage there it took hold and we haven’t been able to get rid of it. It doesn’t respond to the typical gel. Then again we only have two choices and if the rust is not one of those strains? We live with it.”

“Two strains?! That’s it? Primus above!” Ratchet cursed, unable to believe how the Decepticons weren’t all falling apart. “You’ve got quite a patch going and it’s strain 27 from the looks of it. Not as common.”

He was holding up a white and black wing as he shuffled through his extensive subspace for the right gel, eager to cure the itchy patch of rust. Ramjet wasn’t making a fit about any of the attentions now, letting Ratchet do whatever he liked. If it meant he could be rid of the rust he’d let the Autobots do just about anything! 

Instant relief at last conquered the nagging, persistent itch. A happy Seeker trill escaped before Ramjet could help it, the free wing flicking and dipping in thanks. He got a pat on said wing once the medic was sure he got the right gel to calm the infection. 

“Put this on twice per day for four days. It’ll be gone,” Ratchet ordered, handing the tube of gel to Ramjet. “All of you need to rest. You might look relatively good for these times but everyone doesn’t get enough recharge around here.”

With that said, the gruff mech was heading out. His job was done. 

“Uh…thanks. For this.”

Ratchet didn’t pause, but the ghost of a smile flitted across his lips. Not like any of them would see since his back was turned, but it was there. Not many people thanked him, much less the enemy. Not that he minded. He was doing a job. Still, he was glad to hear his efforts were not going unnoticed. Maybe next battle the Seekers would aim high and miss one of Ratchet’s friends. 

It was probably too much to hope, but hope had taken them this far.

Ratchet returned to the upper levels of the Ark once he finished with the aerials, needing to meet with Optimus and the others to give his assessment of the trine. They were agreeable enough, in good shape, and could easily be traded if Megatron wanted them back. Clearly losing three flight capable mechs would be a blow the warlord would want to remedy as quickly as possible. 

“They’re in good shape to be traded back.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I fear what may have happened to Groove and Slingshot,” Optimus said gravely, serious as always. “I will reach out.”

“Well, we aren’t trading three for two. One of the Seekers stays here,” Prowl demanded, door wings raised high on his back. 

Ratchet made a sound between a scoff and a hiss. 

“Not possible. They need to stay as a unit for their health.”

“I don’t care about their health! Ratchet, we’re in a war. They are bargaining chips, and right now we only need to use two of them. Depending on how badly Megatron wants them back we could possibly get Slingshot and Groove back with just one. Maybe the trine leader goes and the others stay.”

“That’s wrong and you know it,” Ratchet snapped, meeting Prowl’s unwavering gaze with his own. 

“I vote with Prowl! Get us back our mechs and we’ll send them Seekers over…when we’re danm well ready!” Ironhide barked. 

Optimus was silent and pensive. “I will make contact and we will work out a trade. I understand a trine needs to stay together, but I do not want to give Megatron back his full fighting unit. I will think on this.”

The meeting was a short one, everyone leaving Optimus to think on his own what the best course of action was. Finally he sent out the message to Megatron, his long lost friend quick to answer. Much quicker than Optimus expected.

-I have contacted you to discuss a prisoner transfer. We have found and repaired your Seeker trine and we require—

-You may have your two soldiers back! The trine is far more valuable than your pathetic Autobot rejects- Megatron replied, quick to accept the terms. His spark and fuel pump were hammering in his audials, the silver mech desperate to get his Seekers back. 

Optimus hadn’t agreed though, not like he usually did.

-Megatron. You currently have two of my mechs. I will trade two of your Seekers for them. One must remain here-

-That’s impossible and you know it! They act as a unit! I could kill both of your idiots right now if I so chose! How dare you make threats to hold one of them back from me!-

-If you harm my soldiers, you will not receive the trine at all, Megatron-

The warlord rose from his seat and proceeded to launch the chair across the room in a rage. He was not going to choose! He shouldn't be made to choose!

-I will trade your soldiers for the trine-

-I will trade a mech for a mech- 

-And here I was, thinking the great and mighty Prime was looking for an end to this madness! Yet here you are, perpetuating the cycle of misery! You are quite the hypocrite- Megatron sneered, lips curled back in a silent snarl as he was given a very firm 'no' to his demand.

Optimus sighed, the sound transferring over the com link. 

-Tell me which two you will trade for. I can assure you the third will be safe here until another agreement can be made between us- 

The Prime sensed that Megatron wanted the Seekers badly enough to actually talk with him, perhaps even about a truce. As much as Optimus hated to do it, he was going to hold back letting all three Seekers go. It would be hard for the trine but it had been hard for everyone over the millions of years at war. It was a price to pay, but it could possibly lead to some kind of peace—or at least a discussion. 

Megatron was silent on the other end of the com, seething as he was forced to decide. 

-Dirge and Ramjet-

Those two had the best chance of taking back Thrust. They were the better fighters, even though Megatron knew how terrified poor Thrust would be without them. Hopefully the separation would not last long…

-Very good. I will meet you for the prisoner exchange in two hours on neutral ground- 

Megatron pinged an affirmative, feeling his fuel tank drop with nausea. He would have to convince Prime to release Thrust with the other two. Surely there was a way! Just as he was sinking down into another chair with the heaviness of such a choice made, the command room door opened and revealed Starscream, the Seeker freshly polished and strutting. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk.”

Megatron looked pained.

“I’m in no mood to talk.”

The tricolor Seeker ignored the venom in those spat words, striding over and boldly finding a way to sit on Megatron’s lap. Manicured claws kneaded into tense shoulders as a pretty faceplate looked up at the weathered one of the tank. 

“I know you miss them, but you still have me. And my trine.”

“You will not replace them.”

“No? Are you sure?” Starscream crooned, digits trailing down Megatron’s chest. “I can help you forget.”

“You have loathed me for years, you fickle thing. Now you sense pain and you come to claw the wounds. Clever."

“Just tell me you’re sorry and everything can go back to normal!” Starscream demanded, but there was an ache in his voice that only Megatron would notice. The warlord found one of his hands went to rub Starscream’s lower back in a subconscious gesture. 

He remembered how they had once been close. How things had once been good.

The tank was coming to realize that if he didn’t relent he would have no trines left. To selfishly prevent his own loneliness, Megatron finally muttered his apology for the lovers spat so many years ago. One wrong name had slipped from his vocalizer and of course Starscream had taken it as quite the insult. Even though it was unintentional, Megatron knew he should have apologized long ago for the fierce argument. Starscream was not Orion and never would be. As much as he longed to replace that relationship forever lost, nothing he did fully erased that void.

At the growled apology, Starscream purred and cuddled in for a hug. Just like that, he was appeased. Sure, he would hold the apology over Megatron’s helm quite often, but the Seeker had gotten what he so badly wanted. The other trine was out of the way and now he was back where he belonged—in the warlord’s favor. He hoped that the Autobots wouldn't trade Dirge's trine back if they did have them and if the other Seekers were dead? Starscream would make sure to pretend he was sorry while in public. 

Really, he felt victorious. Megatron was older, weaker, and more vulnerable to tricks these days. The tricolor menace cuddled closer, grinning when the warlord couldn't see it. Oh yes, things had gone quite well. A little detour here or there, but in the end Starscream got what he wanted. For now, anyway.


End file.
